


Secret? What Secret?

by Musichick2004



Category: NCIS
Genre: Anal Sex, Anger, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Child Death, Falling In Love, Family Feels, Family Secrets, Gay Sex, Grief/Mourning, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Memory Loss, Multi, Oral Sex, Reconciliation, Relationship(s), Shower Sex, altered timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 08:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 40,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12384366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musichick2004/pseuds/Musichick2004
Summary: Tony DiNozzo was a college kid, living life to the fullest. Leroy Jethro Gibbs was a Marine working his way up the food chain and trying to stay under the radar. Shannon Fielding was writing lovely letters to her best friend giving the appearance of a long term relationship to keep him safe.When Jethro writes to her about his new friend, she is excited to meet him. The three form an intense friendship, the boys even gift her with a simple band of gold nearly identical to their own, and Shannon agrees to carry their child.Until the accident. The murder of the two people most precious to them. That's when it all falls apart. Years later, when Tony tackles his husband in an alley in Baltimore, he punches him square in the jaw before dragging him into the station. How the hell will they handle this? And why the hell did Gibbs offer Tony a job, after ten years of silence?





	1. Hey Soldier

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Banbury](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banbury/gifts), [WestEndBroadwayBaby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WestEndBroadwayBaby/gifts).



> Thank you to Banbury for the lovely art, and WestEndBroadwayBaby for being an excellent beta and muse!

Jethro pulled the cap down further across his face and scanned the street before slipping through the narrow door. He was quickly stopped in the small, dark room by a large, older man. He tensed and his immediate reaction was to fight, he was so used to it, but he took a breath. He knew why he was being stopped. “Just goin’ in for a drink,” he mumbled. The guy was overmuscled and that point was emphasized when he slowly crossed his arms in front of his chest. Normally Jethro hated men like this on sight, an ingrained reaction from his teen years, but he knew this was probably an act, mostly for show to prevent assholes from storming the place.  
  
“Not lookin’ for trouble, boy?”  
  
Jethro stood to his full height, almost as tall as the man in front of him, “no sir. Not many places I can relax around here.” He saw a faded tattoo on his bicep, the bottom barely visible under the snug black shirt--a banner that might have read “Dishonor,” below a star with a circle in the center. The guy was probably retired Air Force. Jethro took a chance, looking pointedly at the tattoo, then back up. “Uncle Sam isn’t so kind to us.” He didn’t usually give any details of his life, but he figured he was only here for a drink and maybe some fun, he’d never see the guy again. This seemed to satisfy the bouncer, who relaxed, nodded, and stepped aside, giving a small salute and letting Jethro through the next door into a dark room filled with loud music and cigarette smoke.

Jethro had jumped at the opportunity to do the presentations at the Pittsburgh recruitment centers, which meant he could take a few days’ leave here before taking the train back to LeJune. As a teen, he’d heard of the gay nightlife in the city, and had investigated all day to find a decently discreet club. The Wanderer’s Club seemed to fit the bill, with an extra flight of stairs and a sliding peephole to maintain privacy.  
  
**  
  
“Oooh, lookit that tall drink of water…” Sam tapped Tony’s arm and waggled his fingers in a wave to the man sitting at the bar, frowning when he wasn't noticed.  
  
Tony turned and eyed the newcomer. “Damn…he is good enough to eat. But no.” He swiveled on his heel and went back to dancing.  
  
“Come on, Tony, he’s TOTALLY your type. All broody and grumpy. It’s been WEEKS since you’ve been laid, man, go for it! If Trey wouldn’t kill me, I’d take him.”  
  
Tony rolled his eyes. “He’s military, dipstick. I’m not messing with some jarhead with an identity crisis. Been there, got the T-shirt, not going back.”  
  
“God, you’re not messing with ANYONE! If he is military, he’s probably got some chickie back home in East Bejeezusville or something and he’ll be good for a weekend of fun and be gone. Get your rocks off, man!”  
  
Tony thought about it. The guy WAS hot, even if he was trying to hide in the corner with a second shot already in front of him. _This was the whole point of their little road trip, right? To get laid?_ He asked himself. After a bit of internal debate, Tony decided he’d bide his time, see if the guy noticed him. “Fine, but let’s get him interested, eh?” Tony yanked his friend close and ground their groins together.  
  
Sam grinned, “Oh _baby_ !”  
  
**

Jethro sighed. He didn’t know why he had come to a place like this. There were a few older men sitting at the tables, but he was too young to fit in there. In the dark fringes were several couples, some in as little as leather chaps and…was that a...sequined thong? He shook his head, leather was fine, but in a jacket, or a harness on a horse not across someone’s chest. Then on the dance floor were the younger set, college kids, by the look of them, decked out in short shorts and tight jeans, some shirtless, grinding against each other and practically having sex vertically. That wasn’t his scene either. He tossed back his second drink, waving to the bartender.  
  
“Gotta pace yourself, hon,” the young man purred, “but if you want something to take your mind off your work, or your wife, I get off in an hour…” He winked and poured the shot, then walked back to another patron.  
  
Jethro looked him up and down. He couldn’t be more than 22, and was short and slim, the feminine sway to his hips accentuating the short cutoffs framing a nicely rounded ass. Tempting. But short, slim, and feminine were things he could get any day of the week. He wasn’t a stranger to that, and enjoyed it, but that’s not what he was interested in. Unfortunately, it seemed what he WAS interested in was not to be found. He didn’t want a giggly twink, but he didn’t need some leather daddy trying to wrestle with him just because he was young and wiry and they thought he’d be “easy.” He wanted someone real, someone not too young, someone strong but nice, attractive in a fairly traditional way. Just…a guy. But, like the other few times he’d gone to bars like this, Jethro just settled back onto his stool and quietly watched the people around him. Grateful that, for just one evening, at least he didn’t have to pretend.  
  
With the third drink, he did pace himself. He spun his fingers around the rim and listened to the music. As a particularly bass-heavy song came over the speakers, a couple on the dance floor caught his eye. The taller man, definitely over 6’ tall, was a sight to behold. As with many others, he wore short cutoff jeans, rolled even higher until they were barely covering his groin, but they seemed to fit him better somehow. Maybe it was the noticeable stretch and swell of his muscular thighs as he danced, or the low dip in the front that didn’t quite meet his tight shirt, highlighting a smattering of dark curls against tanned skin. Whatever it was, Jethro’s interest was piqued.  
  
The two young men seemed to move as one, the blonde practically melting against the gyrations of the darker one, their excitement evident as they ground against each other’s thighs. Jethro also noticed that the young man seemed to be a bit more covered, at least on top, than some of his cohorts, but his clothes only accentuated the obviously well-defined torso beneath. He felt himself harden as the pale hands of the smaller man sensuously slid beneath the thin shirt and pulled him even closer.

**

“Ooh, he’s watching,” Sam whispered, blushing against his friend.  
  
“Good. Let’s give him something to watch.” Tony wrapped one strong arm around Sam’s back and practically lifted him off the floor, burying his lips against his neck.  
  
Sam threw his head back and groaned, “Fuck, Tony,” he hissed, “keep that up and I’ll forget Trey even exists…”  
  
Tony grinned, “oh, he does you better than I ever did, you like the daddy types. Don’t worry, I won’t mark you up.” He slid both hands down Sam’s tight pants and squeezed his ass, making him yelp. “Come on, Sam, I know you give as good as you get. Make it good.”  
  
Sam narrowed his eyes, “oh, I can make it good.” He leaned forward and nipped at Tony’s chest, catching his nipple between his teeth.  
  
Tony gasped and bit his lip as Sam flicked his nipple through his now damp shirt, “Jesus…OK, if this doesn’t work, I’m getting you drunk enough to give you an excuse to cheat…” His breathing picked up as Sam ran his tongue over to the other side of his chest, “Hate to interrupt…but is it working?”  
  
Sam chuckled and lifted his head, pulling Tony’s head down to nibble his ear this time, giving him a decent view of Tony’s intended target. He played with the spot right below Tony’s earlobe, a spot he knew from personal experience made his friend melt, until he felt his large hands squeeze his ass painfully. “Right, sorry,” Sam smirked. “Oh yeah, it’s working. And by the look of things, he will definitely rock your world.”  
  
Tony spun them so it was his turn to look right at the soldier. Sam was right…he was sporting quite the bulge in his jeans. Now that he knew what he wanted, Tony wasn’t shy about it. He kept dancing with Sam, but made, and held, eye contact with the hot jarhead with a crewcut and plain button down shirt.  
  
**  
  
Jethro swallowed hard when the pair spun and the taller kid made eye contact. He’d noticed the blonde sizing him up, but hadn’t thought anything of it. Now, though, he wasn’t about to back down from the challenge. Confidently, he sipped his drink—bourbon on the rocks this time. Not his drink of choice, but it worked. He watched the pair with a half grin, until an older man came onto the floor and glared at the tall, dark-haired kid, sweeping the blonde off to a dark corner. After that, he lost sight of both of them for a while, and eventually turned back to the bar, reaching for his wallet to settle his bill.  
  
“Jake, I got soldier boy’s tab.”  
  
Jethro had to stop himself from flipping the kid as he grabbed the hand holding his wallet. “I pay for my own drinks,” he grumbled.  
  
The young man broke into a wide grin, “Look, I know Uncle Sam pays you shit. As long as my dad thinks I’m out schmoozing women, he has no problem picking up my bar tabs. The more expensive the better, in his mind. Let _him_ pay.”  
  
Jethro looked at the cash in his hand, thought about his meager pay, then nodded. “Fine. Doesn’t mean I owe you anything.”  
  
“Hon, I’m pretty sure if I wanted you, I could have you, whether I paid for your drinks or not.”  
  
Jethro should have been appalled at this kid’s nerve. Instead, he was amused. “Cocky, aren’t you?”  
  
“Hmmm, I’m not the only one _cock-_ y tonight…” he emphasized the word and not-too-subtly glanced at Jethro’s crotch, where his half-hard cock was still noticeable even with his tightest jeans. “Name’s Tony.” He held out his hand, “and I certainly want to get to know you better.”  
  
Jethro grinned, downed the last of his drink, and took Tony’s hand, “Jethro.”  
  
Tony smirked, “I think I like ‘soldier boy’ better.”  
  
Jethro licked his lips. Maybe tonight _would_ be his lucky night.


	2. Not Leaving Yet

Tony yanked Jethro into the dirty hotel room by his belt and slammed the door behind them, aiming to press him against the wall. He figured this guy would be a little repressed, maybe nervous about kissing a guy, and he’d have the upper hand. Most of these butch first timers just assumed he'd bottom, and he certainly enjoyed it, but he liked to surprise them.   
  
He figured wrong. 

Jethro seemed to lock the door, unbutton his pants, and spin Tony face first against the wall in one swift move. “oonf” Tony grunted as Jethro pressed his body against Tony’s back.   
  
“You wanna wrestle, rich boy, or fuck?” Jethro growled against his ear.   
  
Tony felt his cock jump and he bit back a moan. He’d been with rough leather guys and bears before, but this was different. This guy wasn't playing at hyper-masculinity like so many tops did, he just...was. “Both.” He smirked and twisted, grappling with the soldier, kissing and biting when he could, groping his hard cock, feeling his muscles flex beneath taut skin, until they both landed on the bed, panting and sweaty.   
  
Jethro let out a loud chuckle. “You sure you’re not military, kid?” Sure, he’d ended up on top, with Tony’s hands pinned next to his shoulders, but it had taken significantly longer than he’d thought.   
  
Tony shook his head, “Hell no. Military school beat that right outta me. Now I’m just a dumb jock.”   
  
Something in the way he said it made Jethro think there was much more to that story…and it wasn’t a happy one. He leaned down and kissed Tony again. Not a soft, gentle kiss, but not the rough frantic sucking and biting of earlier. Passionate. Tony kissed back, pressing against the hands holding him down, and arched his back, wanting as much connection between them as he could get. Jethro pulled back, ignoring the disappointed whine. “I get the impression you’re not as dumb as you make yourself out to be.”   
  
Tony narrowed his eyes. “Look, if you’re gonna get all kinds of sappy on me, I can find someone else who can give me what I want.”   
  
Jethro felt a surge of…of what? Jealousy?...He didn’t have any reason or right to be jealous, but he dropped his weight on top of Tony and claimed his mouth again with a growl.   
  
When they came up for air, Tony smirked. “mmm, now that’s what I’m talking about.”   
  
Jethro released Tony’s hands and quickly slid his shirt over his head, groaning at the trail of dark hair leading down his now unbuttoned shorts. It was very quickly obvious the younger man was not wearing underwear, either. Jethro leaned down and began licking and sucking on his nipples as Tony scrabbled to remove Jethro’s jeans.   
  
Having little success, with no shirt and his shorts now low enough on his hips to fully expose his hard cock, Tony groaned in frustration and shoved Jethro back. “Damnit, you’re too clothed!”   
  
Jethro laughed and hopped off the bed, tossing his clothes on the floor as Tony wriggled out of his shorts the rest of the way, snagging the tube of lube from his pocket. “Show me what you got,” he grinned as he tossed it to Jethro.

The young Marine licked his lips at the sight of the younger man before him. Tanned, muscular, and obviously horny as fuck.

Tony quickly rolled and got onto his hands and knees, arching his back and giving Jethro a clear view of his perfect ass. “God damn, boy…” Jethro practically growled, getting onto the bed behind Tony and roughly grabbing his cheeks, pulling them apart.

Tony gasped and whined at the action, “Fuck…” he exclaimed, pushing back against the man behind him. 

“That's the idea.” Jethro poured lube over Tony's hole and slid his wide thumb inside, grinning when Tony moaned and pushed back again. “How much prep do you need?” He asked.

“Not much. I can…” Tony's voice cut off as Jethro slid his other thumb alongside the other one. He hadn't felt a burn with the first finger, but he did with this one. He tried not to buck forward and let out a breathy “ahhhhhh…”

“Y’ok?” Jethro paused his movements, letting his fingers rest inside his partner.

“Yeah. Just surprised me.” Tony said through gritted teeth. He wriggled his hips a bit, letting his body adjust, before rocking back and forth a bit. “I'm good.” He reached down to stroke himself, but Jethro grabbed his arm and pushed it away.

“Patience.” Jethro told him. 

Tony was about to complain when he felt a third finger join the two large ones already stretching him. This time, it was a slow slide and felt amazing. Tony’s moan came from low in his throat as Jethro's hands started twisting and pulling him open. “Please...fuck me...Show me…” Tony panted.

“I’ll show you, don't worry.” Jethro twisted and stretched and let himself enjoy the teasing and the wanton sounds coming from Tony as he thrust back against him. Finally, Jethro pulled his hands back, taking a moment to watch Tony's body clench and tighten at the loss, writhing and almost begging to be filled again. He stroked himself with his lubed hand, and held his leaking cock against Tony's hole. “You good?”

“Jesus, yes!” Tony cried, planting his knees slightly farther apart and trying not to sound  _ too _ desperate.

Jethro chuckled again and grabbed Tony's hip with one hand, holding him steady as he pushed forward. He groaned at the tightness surrounding him, and had to stop moving when Tony’s body tightened even more and he started chanting “oh God...Yes...Fuck yes…”

Though he wasn't shy about his orientation at school, and liked to show off his body at the clubs, Tony was actually fairly picky about who he fucked, and it'd been a long while since he'd been with someone like Jethro. They seemed to be close to equally matched physically and similar in age, he was an alpha personality without the external bells and whistles of tattoos and leather, he obviously wanted a good hard fuck but cared enough to stop if he thought Tony was uncomfortable, and  _ damn _ , his cock was perfect. Not too long, but thick and hard and stretching Tony just to the point of painful. It felt amazing and he couldn't stop his begging with every breath.

Jethro paused as he bottomed out, one hand still tight on Tony's hip, the other stroking his muscular back, tracing invisible lines with his fingernails. He waited until he could see Tony's breath regulate, until he started arching back against him. 

“Come on…” Tony whined, reaching down again to stroke his slightly softened cock. It always annoyed him that he softened even though it felt so damn good. 

Jethro huffed and grabbed Tony's wrist, pressing it back against the mattress and leaning across Tony's back. “How bad do you want it?” He teased, whispering against Tony's ear.

Tony pushed back, hoping to knock Jethro off balance, but he'd anticipated the move and held his ground. “Damnit, just fuck me! MOVE!” Tony clenched around Jethro and grinned when he heard the man gasp and groan.

_ Smart ass _ , Jethro thought. When he felt Tony relax again, he slowly pulled out until just the head of his cock was inside Tony, then snapped his hips forward. Hard. Tony's body rocked forward and he dropped his head, biting back a moan. Jethro knew he wouldn't last long, so he slid his hand down to Tony's cock and gripped it tight, his strokes matching the rhythm he set as he fucked the boy into the mattress.

Tony wanted to scream at the dual sensations, and his body tightened and shook with the effort of holding himself up as Jethro slammed into him. He knew he'd be sore the next day, but damn, it was worth it, as he quickly rose to his peak and shouted “hoo rah!” as he came all over the old bedspread beneath them. 

Jethro quickly followed Tony, thrusting deep inside him as he came, grabbing his hips and holding him in place and groaning at the ceiling with every stroke.

Tony started to collapse onto the bed as Jethro slid out of his body, but the man still held his hips in a death grip. He had no doubt there'd be bruises. He didn't know what the man wanted, but he stayed still. Until he felt Jethro slide his head between his thighs and wrap his lips around Tony's flaccid cock. 

Jethro hummed in amusement as the younger man whimpered and pulled back slightly. He paused, waiting to see if he was just oversensitive, or actually wanted to stop. When Tony’s whimpering started to sound needy, instead of objecting, Jethro took his entire cock into his mouth and sucked him clean, swirling his tongue around the head as he slipped off. Immediately, his mouth traveled to Tony's balls, then he flipped back over and spread Tony's cheeks again, and ran his tongue from the back of his balls and over his hole, tasting himself as some of his cum spilled from Tony's body.

_ Holy fucking hell! _ Tony thought, his thighs trembling as Jethro’s tongue expertly slid across his skin and licked him open, until he felt himself grow hard again. He flinched when Jethro began stroking him, gently this time, alternating between sucking on his balls and tonguing his hole. “I'm gonna...Oh God...Don't stop...Holy…” Tony fell forward onto his elbows, his second orgasm building slowly, until Jethro rolled onto his back again and took Tony's cock in his mouth and pulled his hips down repeatedly, encouraging Tony to fuck his throat. Tony took the hint and began thrusting, cumming hard down the Marine’s throat within seconds.

Later, as the pair sat in Tony's car down the road from the hotel Jethro had booked for his leave, they couldn't keep their hands off each other. But unfortunately, the sun was coming over the horizon, and Tony knew Jethro should go. He leaned back and smiled sadly. “So...Uh...Guess this is it, huh?”

Jethro shrugged. “Not leaving for a few days…”

Tony grinned and winked, “really? Maybe I can get us somewhere that charges by the night, instead of the hour, this time?” This hotel knew Jethro’s name, and that he was a Marine, and they weren’t known for their discretion. Tony had originally planned to stay with Sam for the weekend, but he was pretty sure his friend wouldn’t mind.

Jethro nodded thoughtfully. “OK. On one condition.”

Tony frowned, “what?”

“You never,  _ ever _ , say 'ooh-rah’ in bed again.”

They both laughed, and agreed when and where to meet later that day.


	3. This "Thing"

Tony stood in the tiny bathroom of the motel (a much cleaner, but still discreet, one this time). It was the wee hours of the morning, and he couldn't sleep. He leaned over the old sink and stared into the mirror.

“It was a fun weekend. Get a grip, Anthony.” He chastised himself. The guy was a Marine, had a picture of a cute redhead in his wallet, probably his girlfriend or wife. Tony knew it wasn't supposed to last after he left. It was a fling, nothing more. A whole lot of sex. 

And cuddling. There was an awful lot of cuddling and kissing. But still, that didn't mean it could last. Maybe it meant more than sex, but it was just a fling. “You  _ can't _ fall for him, dumbass,” he growled at his reflection. “Why the hell would he want a dumb jock when he's got a perfectly good woman at home?” It's not like Tony was such a catch, either, even if he didn't have a woman at home. The guy was a US Marine, out defending the country and saving lives, Tony was just a queer city boy, spending his weekends an hour away from his frat brothers, hoping to pass his phys ed degree and maybe play some ball when he graduated.

But he felt his chest tighten and he had to fight the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. Just two hours before, they'd had sex, and it wasn't just sex. It felt like more. It was slow and sensual and felt like they were the only two people in the world as they stared into each other's eyes and kissed as Jethro came inside him, and kept kissing as his hand stroked Tony to his own orgasm. They'd stayed together as long as possible, kissing and touching, even long after Jethro's soft cock slipped from Tony's body. Jethro held Tony close, spooned behind him, until he fell asleep, his breath tickling the back of Tony's neck, and Tony couldn't help but want to do it again, every single night. 

They'd made love. There was no other way to describe it. 

“You  _ bastard. _ ” Tony growled, banging his hand against the sink. Jethro was a selfish prick. He knew he would be leaving, and he'd given Tony just a taste of what he couldn't have.  _ That's it. I’m leaving _ , Tony thought. He splashed water on his face and straightened his shirt, planning to grab his jeans on the way out. Let Soldier Boy pay for the damn room.

As he flung the door open, he ran into Jethro with an  **_oomph._ **

Tony narrowed his eyes and glared, reaching for the pants dangling from Jethro's fingers. “I'm leaving. We're done, so why should I stay?”

Jethro yanked them back and gave Tony his infuriating half smirk. “Who says we're done?”

Tony rolled his eyes, “no, no more 'one last quickie for the road.’ Go back to your little redhead and let me get back to trying to pass my anatomy course, would ya?”

And then, Jethro laughed. 

The fucker laughed.

Tony saw red and charged forward, aiming to grab his jeans, but he was quickly diverted until he fell onto the bed. He felt Jethro straddle him, but hell no, Tony wasn't playing anymore. This wasn't sexy wrestling, Tony needed to  _ leave _ . He spun and tried to knock Jethro off balance, but his anger made him sloppy. Jethro quickly pinned him, his thighs hard and taut, his biceps bulging as he held Tony down.

“This how you really like it? You gonna force me or something?” Tony thrashed, panic starting to rise over the anger.

“No, I'm waiting for you to calm down.” Jethro said, matter-of-factly.

Tony stopped moving and glared at him. “Why?”

“Because Shannon is my best friend and my beard. You think I can be a faggot Marine? No. We dated for all of 3 months until it was clear I didn't want anything more than friendship. I love her, and always will, but not in a ‘girlfriend’ kind of way. She agreed to send me letters and pictures and make it look like we were dating so I don't get my ass kicked day in and day out. I don't make up nasty stories like some of the guys, but she sends me letters. It's a ruse, Tony. Thankfully, a ruse that’s working. She even agreed to marry me if it kept me safe.” Jethro shook his head, “poor girl.”

Tony stared in disbelief. “Why are you telling me this? Why does it matter?”

Jethro felt Tony relax, and backed up, releasing his wrists. He reached into his wallet and pulled out a torn piece of paper. “Write me.” He handed Tony the paper with the address of where he was stationed. “Just...Be careful.”

Tony took the address and blinked several times. “Why?”

Jethro smiled. Not a smirk, but a genuine smile. “I like you, Tony. And I'd like to write to you, and I'd like to see you when I can. Hell, maybe we can make this thing work.”

“This  _ thing _ ?”

Jethro sighed. He leaned forward, hovering over Tony, and tapped him, not too gently, on top of his head. “ _ Us _ . If you want me. I'm a bastard, and I'm always busy, and we won't be able to see each other nearly enough, and I'll want you all to myself when we do see each other because words on a page can only satisfy so much, but I want to try and have an 'us.’ Whadda ya say?”   


Tony still couldn't believe it. “Why?”

Jethro kissed Tony gently. “Because, Tony, you're smart, and strong, and kind, and sexy, and great in bed, and I want to know more.”

Tony felt that tightness in his chest again, and turned his head to the side, avoiding eye contact. “No, you don't. I'm a good lay, I know it. Leave it at that.” Tony tried to get up, but Jethro pushed him back down.

“If you don't want me, I'll leave. But look me in the eye and say it.”

Tony closed his eyes. He wanted this. He really did. But any time he  _ really _ wanted something, it fell apart. Jethro would tire of him, and he'd be right back where he started, just with a broken heart.

“Compromise?” Jethro asked.

Tony turned back to look at him.

“Just write. No expectations. When I'm back in town, we can talk about it again if we want. Please?”

Tony looked shocked. He didn't see Jethro as someone who used the word 'please’ all that often. He nodded. “Ok. Fine.”

***

Shannon grinned from ear to ear. Her letters to Leroy were usually very generic, telling him about life events, how much she missed him, lots of filler to make a friendly conversation seem like more, but his letters to her were usually a bit different. They were either short, to the point, and obviously hastily written, or they were longer and had even more filler and occasionally hints of sexual flirtation involved. The former were the real letters, the ones that weren't for show. That was the kind of letter she'd received today.

> _ Shan, _
> 
> _ Got a new pen pal while on leave. He's great, college kid, smart, jock, good at hand to hand and wrestling. Gave him my address, hope he writes. First pen pal I've ever wanted to see again. Hope he does too. _
> 
> _ You're still my number one girl. Guys here are awful, want a bikini picture, I told them to screw off, I'm a gentleman.  _
> 
> _ Love ya, _
> 
> _ L. _

She grinned. She was one of very few people who knew Leroy tended to be more attracted to men, and she never had an issue helping him keep his secret. She hated that it was necessary, of course, but at least this way she was always in touch with her best friend.

Shannon sat down and pulled out a spiral bound notebook, jotting down some thoughts for her next letter. 

> _ Leroy, _
> 
> _ I was so happy to get your last letter, darling. Of course, I'll send an updated photo, but not in a bikini! Goodness, my father would never approve. But maybe you'll get to see the new one I bought last week. It looks lovely, especially on the floor. _

She snorted as she wrote, knowing poor Leroy would blush. They'd been friends for long enough, she enjoyed this too much sometimes, and he knew she wasn't the type to actually care what her father thought of her choice in photos at 25 years old. Though, actually sending a bikini photo would probably turn him a lovely shade of fluorescent pink. She’d think about it.   


> _ Anyway, I'm glad you're getting to know your friends better, I know it's so hard to be away, but I'm sure your leave will be wonderful. Perhaps a motel room would be in order?  _
> 
> _ Stay safe, Honey, and I miss you more than you know. _

This wasn't filler. She really did miss him, and hated that he was in danger.

> _ Love you always, _
> 
> _ Shannon  _
> 
> _ XOXOXO _   
> 

She set the pen down and sighed. She'd come back to it later, writing on the flowery stationery her “boyfriend” hated, adding some things about her family, and their dog, and some bits about his dad, but the most important stuff was already there. She really hoped this worked for him. He deserved to be happy.

***   
  
“No, Dad, I'm going out with… Friends...Yes, the whole weekend… No, I'm not meeting your friend, I don't care what business…” Tony sighed in frustration, glancing at his watch again. Finally he interrupted his father, “Look, I gotta go. Why don't you call someone you actually give a shit about, ok?” He slammed the phone back onto the receiver, grabbed his keys, and ran out the door.

At the train station, he shifted his weight back and forth, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. He watched the people streaming by, ignoring them all until he heard some objecting as someone pushed through the crowd. Tony grinned; he recognized the mumbled growling coming from the center of the disturbance. Suddenly, Jethro was in front of him. It was the first time Tony had seen him in uniform, a rucksack over his shoulder, and it took his breath away. He awkwardly shifted as his pants tightened, and Jethro smirked knowingly.

“Hey rich kid.”

It took a hell of a lot of self control to not grab Jethro right there and kiss him. “Hey Marine.” He muttered.

“Grab a drink?” Jethro asked.

“Sounds good.” Tony stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep them under control.

They got into Tony's car and Tony gripped the steering wheel tight enough that his knuckles were white. They drove in silence until Tony pulled into a shaded driveway. He parked and turned off the car, just as Jethro reached across the seat and touched his face. Tony leaned his face into the touch and closed his eyes, letting Jethro's palm linger on his cheek.

“I've wanted to do that since I left, y’know.” Jethro said, his thumb stroking across Tony's cheekbone.

Tony smiled and leaned forward, pulling Jethro into a kiss. “I’ve wanted that. And more.” 

Jethro grinned, “oh, believe me, I've wanted that too. But first,” he reached into his bag and pulled out a change of clothes. “Lunch?”

Tony was confused. He was looking forward to several days of a whole lot of sex. He winked and reached over to Jethro's lap as the man unzipped his fatigues. “I can tell you what _I'm_ hungry for…”

Jethro let Tony slip his hands into his briefs for a moment, stroking his cock until it was hard and his breathing was fast and heavy, before he grabbed Tony's wrist. “Stop.” He said.

Tony pouted. “No illicit hand jobs? I'm disappointed.”

Jethro inhaled deeply, trying to slow his heart rate a bit. “Lunch. I intend on taking you on a proper date. This isn't  _ just _ about sex for me. I meant it when I said I want to know more, Tony.”

Tony felt that tightness in his chest again. It was starting to be a fairly regular occurrence around Jethro; he hoped it wasn't a heart problem.

There weren't too many places they could go without the risk of harassment or someone recognizing Jethro as military. But there was a little cafe that was safe, and they chose a booth in the back corner where they ate soup and sandwiches and talked and laughed and casually touched each other on occasion, and it was a bit overwhelming. Tony hadn't been on a real date, at least one he'd enjoyed, in as long as he'd remembered. 

Later, they walked down the street, far enough apart so they didn't draw suspicion, but close enough that occasionally the backs of their hands brushed together. They talked and laughed and smiled, and by the time they made it back to Tony's car, Tony was blushing like a high school girl every time Jethro smiled at him.

“What the hell?” He muttered to himself as he sat in the driver's seat and scrubbed a hand over his face.

“What's wrong?” Jethro looked concerned and placed a hand on his knee.

“Just...Last time we were together, we fucked like rabbits. Big, gay rabbits. But now? Now, I'm all flustered. It's ridiculous and stupid.”

Jethro’s concern lifted and he chuckled. “I take that as a good thing.” He leaned forward and gently kissed Tony's cheek, watching his tanned skin redden even more.

Tony shook his head. “I'm a 20 year old college guy, not some shy 15 year old girl. I've had your dick in my ass, several times, why am I feeling like this?!”

“When was the last time someone treated you like the fucking prize that you are? When was the last time you  _ let them _ ? Instead of acting like you only want someone for sex?” Jethro asked, quietly.

Tony shook his head, wanting to rebut Jethro's statement...But he was right.  _ Bastard _ . 

They made it to the motel room and instead of rushing to the fucking, they reclined on the bed and kissed and touched, almost picking up where they'd left off the time before, slowly removing their clothes until they were making love again.

They spent the vast majority of their time together in various states of undress, sometimes snuggling, sometimes fucking roughly in various parts of the room, sometimes watching movies and laughing together as if they would never be apart again. They did go out for some meals, and Tony adamantly dragged Jethro to see the new time travel film, which he ended up really enjoying (and not just because Tony's hand found its way into his shorts about halfway through). “88 miles an hour...that’s not too bad,” he said as they left the theater. 

Tony rolled his eyes, “I’m never letting you drive my car.”

**

On the last night of Jethro's leave, Tony felt himself getting teary again. “I don't want you to go.” He said, pulling Jethro close to him and ducking his head down into the crook of his neck..

Jethro stroked Tony’s hair, kissing the top of his head. “I know. I don't want to go either. Does that mean this ‘thing’ is official?” He smirked as he felt Tony roll his eyes and snuggle closer. “Just figured I'd check, after how we left it last time.”

“Smart ass.” Tony mumbled into Jethro's chest, squeezing him tighter.

Jethro smiled and held Tony close. “Sleep now. I'll be here when you wake up.”


	4. Lucky & In Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: HIV/AIDS diagnosis/scare/hospitalization. Summary at the end if you'd like to skip it.

Tony's hand shook as he dropped the letter into the mail. He leaned onto the blue metal box and cursed, slamming his hand against it. He tried to hold back the tears, but they fell anyway. Onto the box, onto the pavement, onto his shirt. He needed Jethro. And he felt incredibly guilty at the same time. His life could be over. Jethro's life could be over. And it was all his fault. Jethro would hate him, but he had to know.

***

“I need emergency leave, Sir.” Jethro stood in front of his superior officer. He hated lying, but the letter he'd gotten was not only very strange, but tear-stained. Tony had rambled about friendship and hospitals and mortality, and it had him very worried. His gut churned as he got the approval to head “back to Stillwater to care for his father.” Something was very wrong.

He barely even packed, just throwing underwear and a clean shirt in a bag and ran toward the train station. 

He didn't even wait for the train to stop, he hopped off and bolted for the entrance, until he practically ran into Tony.  _ Screw the consequences _ , he thought, and pulled the man into his arms. Tony didn't return the hug, he stood, shaking, in Jethro's arms until he pulled back and held Tony's shoulders. “Tell me. You're scaring me, Tony.” Jethro noticed his eyes, red and puffy, his skin pale, his frame slightly thinner than the last time they'd seen each other. “What happened to you? If somebody hurt you, I swear…” he started checking Tony over for injuries.

“It's Sam.” Tony started, but the tears started again.

Jethro pulled Tony close, and this time his arms draped around Jethro's waist. 

“He's... He's…” Tony hiccuped against Jethro's shoulder, “he's sick, Jethro. And...I didn't know...I didn't...He might not make it...And…” he couldn't finish his sentence, but he had to tell Jethro. “You need to know…”

“Shhhh, come on. Let's sit.” Jethro ushered Tony toward the exit. 

“No, no, I have to tell you.” Tony stopped Jethro. “AIDS, Jethro.” He whispered, his whole body shaking. 

“Fuck.” Jethro exhaled. Sam was Tony's best friend. “What can I do?” He tucked Tony's arm into his and held his chin high, almost daring someone to confront them. “Come on.” 

Tony followed numbly, until Jethro turned him toward the back table of the cafe next to the train station.

“Two coffees, one black, one Hazelnut, sweet.” Jethro told the waitress as they passed. He pulled out the chair for Tony and sat across from him. “Talk to me, babe.” He stroked Tony's hand, not caring who saw.

“I'm scared.” Tony whispered. “My best friend is dying, and I'm worried about myself. What kind of person does that make me?”

Jethro's brow furrowed, “it's ok to be scared, Tony. I've…” he took a deep breath and paused. “I've seen people hurt and killed and been scared for myself too, Tony. It doesn't make you a bad person.”

“But you could be affected too.” Tony kept looking down at his hands. They stopped talking as the waitress set the coffees on the table.

“On the house, sweetie. Your friend looks pretty beat. My brother was Army, I know that look. You take care of him, losing someone is awful.” She patted Jethro's arm and went to another table.

Jethro took a deep breath, it wouldn't help for him to panic right now. “Why, Tony? Why am I affected?” Though he thought he knew, he needed to be sure.

Shakily, Tony told him. “Sam and I were together. We were just friends because he has a daddy thing, but we still slept together sometimes.  _ Before _ you. And we swapped...y'know...And they say he could have had this…” Tony's voice cracked, but he continued. “It could have been a while. They don't know that much about why it's different for everyone. I mean, he has good days, they're trying to find some way to fix this thing, but right now, he probably won't make it more than a month or two.”

Jethro swallowed his own fear. “Do you want me to go with you to see him?”

Tony’s eyes shot up. He'd just told Jethro he could have given him an incurable and deadly disease, and he was concerned about his friend. “You know what I'm saying…”

Jethro nodded. “Not much we can change now. But Sam's your friend. If you need to see him, we'll go see him.”

Tony felt the tears start to fall. He'd been scared of the disease, but more scared Jethro would hate him. “I haven't been tested yet... Would you come with me? Together?”

Jethro nodded. He changed out of his fatigues and mussed his hair, as much as it bothered him, and they headed to a clinic that specialized in ELISA testing. 

**

“God, Tone, you'd think you'd seen a ghost!” Sam grinned as Tony came in the room, followed by Jethro. “Oooh-hoo-hoo, he DOES exist! Well hel-lo sailor!”

“Marines,” Tony mumbled.

“Whatever, uniform’s a uniform...Give a dying man his last wish and put it on for me, huh? Then maybe take it off... _ Real _ slow? Tony says you're quite the stud.” Sam winked at Jethro.

Tony was obviously upset by Sam's casual attitude and gallows humor, but eventually, the three were joking and smiling as if they weren't in a hospital room, and Sam’s slight frame hadn't already lost far too much weight. Eventually, though, Sam's energy faded. He started coughing, and Tony had to call a nurse. After some oxygen, the coughing stopped, and Tony leaned in and kissed his forehead. “We should go. I love you, you know that, right?”

Sam shrugged, “unless I gave you this.”

“Doesn't matter. We'll find out and we'll deal with it. I'll always love you. You know what you  _ did _ give me?” Tony reached back and grabbed Jethro's hand. “This. If it wasn't for you, I'd have never taken a chance. And he hasn't run for the hills yet.”

Jethro smiled and squeezed Tony's hand. As they left the hospital, Jethro wrapped an arm around Tony's waist. “I'm not running, Tony.”

“Thank you.” Tony whispered.

They spent the next few days shuttling between their motel and the hospital, and before Jethro's leave was up, he and Tony returned to the clinic to get their test results. Both were clear of infection, and breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I wish I could stay.” Jethro said, sitting in Tony's car again, waiting until the last possible moment to leave for the train. “But Sam looked better today. He's lucky to have you.”

“ _ I'm _ lucky to have  _ him _ .” Tony shrugged.

Jethro kissed Tony on the temple and pulled him close. “I wish I could do this right. I hate hiding like this. I love you, Tony.”

Tony couldn't respond. He just let his head sink a little deeper against Jethro's neck and tried not to cry. He knew he loved Jethro. He’d known for a while, but he hadn’t believed the man loved him too, until now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony opens up to Jethro when his friend Sam is diagnosed with AIDS. He and Sam had slept together at some point, without protection, before Tony and Jethro. When Jethro's immediate concern is more for Tony's emotional wellbeing than the possible physical repercussions, Tony is overwhelmed with love. He feels incredibly lucky to have found a man like Jethro.


	5. Meeting Shannon

> _ Shannon, _
> 
> _ Hey babe. Things aren't so great here, but then, they never are. I miss you so much, and I can't wait to see your beautiful face. I've got a friend who I'd really like you to meet, maybe we could all get together next time I'm on leave? I don't think Dad can come, but that's ok. It'll be a lot of fun, I think you'll like each other. _

Shannon grinned as she skimmed the rest of the long letter. Leroy had been mentioning his “friend” and “pen pal” for several months now, and it seemed like maybe they were on the road to something really great, even if things were looking pretty grim at the base. She knew a bit about this young man, and was excited that Leroy wanted them to meet. 

***

> _ LJ, _
> 
> _ I'd love to meet Shannon, she seems very nice. Let me know when your next leave is, and I can drive you back to Stillwater if you want, we can meet at the usual place. How are you doing? I miss you. Sam says hi and is doing pretty well. _
> 
> _ ~T~ _

Tony stretched his fingers, aching from altering his handwriting to look more feminine. He had never signed a letter with anything other than “T.” He knew Jethro's buddies thought he was a player now, shacking up with two different women, one of whom was a bit dirtier than the other. “T” was a bit more adventurous than Shannon, and not shy about who read the letters. If some of those homophobic jarheads got a hardon from something Tony was writing about, he’d feel pretty good about it, actually. He also figured the letters would help his reputation, instead of hurting it. He'd rather censor his name, than what he really wanted to write. 

***

Jethro's knee bounced nervously as the train sped toward the station. He'd been seeing Tony for a little over a year now, even though they'd only actually  _ seen _ each other 4 times. He'd been fortunate enough to secure a bit of extra leave, but he knew it was especially hard on Tony that he was gone so much now that he was helping more with Sam's care. He was doing better than expected, though, so Tony had agreed to take this time to meet Shannon. The two people most important to him were going to spend several days together, and it made him more anxious than basic training.

As he crossed the platform, Jethro had to grin. Tony was standing against the wall chewing on his fingernails, and looked even more nervous than him. But damn...he was wearing the same shorts he wore in the club that night, just not rolled at the thighs and pulled up at the waist. Jethro wondered if they'd have time to stop on the side of the road for a bit… He figured Shannon wouldn't mind if they were a bit late, and there certainly were enough out of the way places they could have some fun without being noticed.

***

In the end, neither of them needed to be nervous. Shannon loved Tony, and the feeling was mutual. They'd been too nervous to do much more than make out on the drive there, but after two days of fun and laughter, they were energized and giddy. Two days of being able to touch and kiss each other in the presence of another person. Before they left, Shannon gave Tony her phone number and address, making him promise to call and write, so she could tell him all sorts of embarrassing stories about her best friend.

“Oh. My. GOD! You SERIOUSLY did that?” Tony was laughing so hard Jethro was afraid the car would swerve off the road.

“Tony, just watch the road, ok?” He tried to look stern, but he felt his lip quirking up just at seeing the joy and amusement in his lover's face.

“No, no, no. Uh-unh. You KISSED the school bully?!?!”

Jethro sighed and his head dropped back onto the headrest with a groan. “Ok, maybe this wasn't a good idea.”

“Come ON. Humor me!” Tony whined. “Did you kick his ass after?”

Jethro's jaw clenched at the memory. Tony’s cheerfulness was wonderful, but he didn’t know the whole story. “Enough. She shouldn't have said anything.”  _ Damnit Shan. _ He knew why she'd said it, but he didn't have to like it.

Tony frowned. “You  _ did _ kick his ass, right?” The mood had very suddenly turned sour.

“I said let it go.” Jethro growled. He folded his arms and closed his eyes, hoping Tony would drop the subject.

Tony pursed his lips and turned his attention back to the road. But he wasn't dropping it. Just the opposite. He scanned the road for the perfect place, and after about 20 minutes of silence, he found it. 

“What the hell?” Jethro sighed as Tony abruptly turned onto a rough trail heading into a state forest and parked the car. “I'm not in the mood, ok?”

Tony ignored his protests and unbuckled, then gracefully spun himself and threw a leg over Jethro's lap until he was seated on his thighs, facing him. He leaned down and pulled the lever briefly, reclining the seat enough that his head wasn't crushed against the ceiling of the car. “What happened? Why would she tell me if it's bad?”

“Because she knew I wouldn't tell you otherwise.” Jethro sighed in defeat. He usually preferred to ignore the bad memories, bury them, pretend they didn’t exist. Shannon had always bitched at him for it. “But fine. The bully kicked  _ my _ ass, told his dad all about it, who told my father, and now that bully is line to be the town sheriff, so you can guess just how welcome I am in town. That's why we stayed at Shannon's, it wasn't because my father couldn't join us, it's because I haven't talked to him since I signed up for the Corps.”

Tony's jaw dropped. “Shit.”

“Yeah. Can we go now?”

Tony shook his head. “I need a break from all this driving.” He leaned forward and kissed Jethro, his hands cupping the older man's cheeks gently. 

Jethro kissed back and his hands slid around Tony's back and down his ass, gripping it tightly. “You gonna finish what you're starting?” He asked, his lips still touching Tony's.

“Hell yes. I already started.” Tony grinned. “Why do you think I took so long in the bathroom before we left?”

Jethro's cock swelled at the knowledge that his lover had thought ahead and was probably already stretched and ready for him. “Take off your shorts.” He ordered.

“Yes  _ sir _ .” Tony gave a mock salute and awkwardly worked his shorts off without returning to his seat. He immediately unbuttoned and unzipped Jethro's pants, sliding them low on his hips to expose his cock and balls. After a few strokes covering it in a generous layer of spit, Tony leaned forward on his knees and pressed the head against his hole.

“Tony, we need more lube…” Jethro frowned and tried to stop him.

“Don't worry.” Tony grinned and began to lower himself onto Jethro, faster than he expected, until he was fully seated on his lap.

Jethro's thumbs dug into Tony's sides as the younger man began rocking on his cock, the easy glide telling him Tony had also used a lot of lube to stretch himself. He reached down and gripped Tony in his right hand and began to stroke him in time with his rhythm, and slid the other hand up Tony's shirt to pinch and twist and flick his nipples. Tony quickly started faltering, his cock swelling in Jethro's hand, and he took over the rhythm, thrusting his hips up hard against Tony as he fell forward against Jethro and cursed and writhed through his orgasm.

Jethro kept thrusting, knowing he was hitting Tony's prostate with every stroke and sending waves of aftershocks through his body. He chased his release, roughly pushing Tony back down onto his lap with one hand and gripping his hair with the other, until he shouted Tony's name and came deep inside him.

Tony fell forward and rested on top of Jethro as they caught their breath. “I think I might have a concussion,” he mumbled eventually.

“What?” Jethro twisted his neck to look at Tony.

“Not much room up here,” he pointed at the ceiling, “and you're...um…strong…”

Jethro laughed and kissed Tony's temple. “Where the hell have you been all my life?”

Tony snorted, “most of it? Jail bait.”

Jethro gently smacked the back of Tony's head. “I'm not old.”

“I dunno… You're way closer to 30 than me!”

Jethro sighed. ”yeah. I am.”  _ Thirty _ , he thought. He and Shannon had made a pact when Jethro had come out to her. Just after a final failed attempt at sex, they'd talked for hours, and Jethro had told her how he'd always seen himself as a father. How could he be a father if he couldn't even have sex with a woman he really did love? Even if it was a different kind of love? Shannon had promised she'd have his babies if he asked her before they were 30. That seemed like so far in the future, when really it was 10 years. But at 19 and 20, 10 years was half a lifetime.

Jethro looked down at the young man smiling into his neck. He wouldn't be ready for kids. It's so soon, and he's still a college kid, Jethro couldn't expect him to want that. He decided he'd keep it to himself for now. 


	6. Family

 

> _Shannie,_
> 
> _I had a great time last weekend! My friends are starting to think you've swung me to the other team, I talk about you so much. I wish we could send Jet the pictures we took, but he'll just have to wait._
> 
> _Why so serious in your last letter, by the way? What do you need to talk about?_

Tony tried to think about how to word the rest of his question, tapping his pen on the paper until he gave up.

_Screw it_ , he thought. _I'm calling_.

He crumpled the page and tossed it into the wastebasket. They'd had a great time, he really could see what Jet saw in Shannon, and even though his frat brothers were surprisingly cool with him and guys, he was never as comfortable around them as he was with her. But the past few weeks, and this past visit, she'd been weird. Any time he tried to ask what was going on, she changed the subject.

He soon got his answer. Speechless, he hung up the phone and retreated to his room.

A few days later, he picked up his pen again.

 

> _Wow. So, I took some time to absorb that, and now I'm back. Kids. I mean, I'm glad you told me, but why couldn't he tell me himself? I'm still in school, kids aren't even on my radar. He's still young, there's no rush, right? Why would he bring it up to you if he wasn't thinking about doing that pretty soon? You said he wants to include me, but I'm not sure I can believe that when he hasn't mentioned one word to me, and you talked about this MONTHS ago!_
> 
> _I don't know what to do with this. God knows my friends will be no help. I love him. But why can't he trust me to come to me with this, you know? His leave isn't for a while yet, I gotta get my head on straight. Or not straight, as the case may be._
> 
> _Love ya,_
> 
> _Tony_

***

Jethro frowned at Tony's last letter. It was a week until his leave, and he'd planned on meeting Tony at the same train station, but Tony had said something came up. If he wanted to see him, Jethro would have to make it to OSU. It was worded oddly, and Tony's handwriting was sloppy, which was unusual. He knew Tony and Shannon had forged a friendship, so he decided to call her the first chance he got.

_“You're an idiot, you know that, right?”_

“Come on, Shan, you know something, I can tell.” Jethro growled into the pay phone.

_“Don't you yell at me. I've been dropping hints in every letter, hoping you'd get it. Talk to Tony about what we agreed. He knows already, but you can probably salvage this. He deserves to know, Leroy.”_

“Damnit! You told him?!”

_“Yes. Because you weren't. You can't expect to spring this on some kid who can barely legally drink! He hadn't even THOUGHT about kids. And if you don't talk to him, he'll keep believing you plan on dumping him before you have any.”_

Jethro cursed and sighed. “I'll get there. I'll fix it.” _I hope._

***

Tony was shocked when he opened his door and saw Jethro standing there. “Oh. Hi.” He turned and, as easily as he could on the crutches, made his way back to his desk.

“What happened?” Jethro ran forward and tried to help him sit.

“I got it!” Tony hissed, yanking his arm from Jethro's grasp. When he sat, he sighed. “Blew out my knee. Senior goddamn year, and I'm benched. It's BS.”

Jethro placed his hand gently on the brace over Tony's pants. “Damn.”

Tony shrugged, “oh well. Maybe I'll actually pass this thing and be a washed up gym teacher before I'm 23.” He turned away from Jethro and pulled out a book.

Jethro took the book from his hand, “Tony…” he waited for Tony to spin his chair around and look at him. “I suck at this,” he started.

“What? It's not me, it's you, right? I deserve better? Or...or, you're emotionally stunted and don't want to keep going? What excuse is it, Jethro?”

“Goddamnit, let me finish.” Jethro tried not to growl at his lover. “I suck at feelings and letting people in, and I know it. I fucked up. But I _do_ love you. I _want_ to do this right. Hell, where I grew up, I should've asked you to marry me by now, because I can't picture my life without you. But…” Jethro hung his head, he heard Tony start to speak, but held up his hand. “ _But_...I'm lost. We're not in the same place in our lives and I don't want to scare you off by rushing this. I know it's been almost 2 years, but you're only 21. And I don't know how to handle this.” He sighed, “I want a family. I'm 28, Tony. That's not old, but for a Marine? Fact is, if I want kids and want to be around to parent them, the sooner the better. Who knows what could happen out there in 2 or 4 years. And Shannon's 28 too now... eventually, it won't be easy for her either. And I didn't want to rope you into something you weren't ready for.”

Tony felt like an ass. But it didn't mean he was wrong. “You still could have mentioned this before talking about it with Shannon. Or at least around the same time. Jesus, Jet. I love kids. I mean, yeah, did I picture myself with a kid at 22 or 23? Hell no. I didn't even know if I'd have kids, or just be the cool godfather. I could make kids offers they couldn't refuse,” he winked at Jethro who rolled his eyes. “But I figured, if I wasn't involved in your thought process, maybe you just didn't want me there.”

Jethro hung his head and stroked Tony's knee as best he could. “I fucked up. Because I damn sure do want you there. I was afraid you wouldn't want it and I'd scare you off.”

Tony leaned forward and smacked Jethro on the back of the head. “Bastard.”

Jethro snorted and smirked at him. “You want to talk about it?”

Tony rolled his eyes, “don't be dense. Of course. I already talked to Shannon though. She's been a saint.”

Jethro nodded and smiled, “yeah, she kind of is.”

“Ugh, get a room.” Tony and Jethro looked up as a shorter student stepped into the room.

Tony laughed, “you're just jealous I'm getting more tail than you. Jethro, my roommate Josh. Josh, Jethro.”

Jethro nodded at the young man.

“Ah, your wet dream in camo. Hi. I'm leaving now, just warn me somehow if I shouldn't come in, ok?” Josh dropped his bookbag and picked up a large duffel bag with “OSU Athletics” emblazoned on the side.

“Tell the guys I say hi. No point in me going to practice anymore.”

“Will do.” Josh waved as he headed back out the door.

“Give my regards to Hannah!” Tony wolf whistled and waggled his eyebrows.

Josh scoffed as the door shut.

“So, soldier...ever been blown by a frat boy?” Tony winked.

“Yep. Lots of times.” Jethro grinned.

“In a frat house?”

“Not yet.”

Tony pulled Jethro to his feet, pulled the lever below the chair to drop it closer to the floor, then leaned down as best he could to run his lips and mouth over the growing bulge in Jethro's jeans.


	7. Two Plus One

Shannon paced, twisting the cord of the phone around her finger. “Jethro, are you sure? I mean, is it ok with Tony? Really? It's not like I can just go to the doctor and get inseminated like some infertile married couple. We can't afford that.”

_ “We talked, and yeah. Hell, I've seen it all before, I know how babies are made.” _

“And you're ok with it? It's not like we had success when we were dating.”

_ “I was faking it then. I was trying to prove something, and I was just a scared kid. I still like women, but now I'm really me. I think it'll be different. Plus... maybe Tony might help, if you're ok with it.” _

“Woah...like, a three-way?” Shannon stopped and stared at her phone.

_ “I...guess, yeah.” _

Shannon blushed and giggled. “Well hell, we'll be trying a few times, right? I won't complain!” She'd be stupid to deny she would love to have Tony in her bed.

_ “You're totally sure you're ok with this?” _

“Leroy, you're my best friend, you're the only guy who's been there for me through thick and thin. How many of my breakups have you nursed me through, even if you're not here? God, if I had to spend my life with you and Tony, I think I'd be really happy. And if I did find someone in the meantime, he damn well better be fine with that, or he's not worth it. I've thought about this a lot this past year.”

_ “Ok.”  _ Jethro let out a shaky breath.  _ “Ok. Yeah. Um. So…” _

Shannon laughed, “So, when are you two gonna rock my world?”

_ “I'll talk to Tony.” _

***

“Jet, you're sure she's ok with this? I mean, I'm all about redheads, no doubt, but I mean... we're kinda taking her off the market, realistically, what if she meets someone? I know that Ron guy was a total dick and put her off guys for a while, but you took care of that. You're TOTALLY sure?” Tony was starting to panic. They'd made it all the way to PA before he'd started to freak out.

“We're not doing anything tonight, Tony, I've got 6 whole weeks of leave. We're just talking.” Jethro stroked his partner’s thigh. “You and me, though... Shannon's probably glad we got a hotel room.”

Tony’s pants tightened and Jethro's hand traveled further up his thigh. 

“Over two years together, and we still haven't switched, Tony. I want to.”

Tony ground his teeth and groaned at the thought. He'd fucked Jethro's throat, but never gotten past a finger or two in his ass during a blow job. It wasn't a huge deal, he REALLY enjoyed bottoming, but the thought of having Jethro beneath him, feeling his ass clench around him…”can we go to the hotel first?”

Jethro laughed, “no, but I think you'll survive waiting until after dinner.” His hand, though, kept sliding higher. 

Tony chewed his lip when Jethro palmed his hard cock through his pants. “You're a bastard, you know that?”

Jethro chuckled, “you'll be up again in no time, Tony.” He stroked Tony through his pants. Maybe it wasn't safe, but Jethro kept his eye on the road as he kept moving his hand.

“Jet…” Tony tried to keep himself under control, but it wasn't working. “If you...uhh...don't stop…” he whined and gripped the steering wheel, hunching forward slightly.

“Not gonna stop, babe. I want to see you cum in your pants.” He was also ready to grab the steering wheel if necessary.

It wasn't necessary. Tony quickly pulled off the road and, with his foot still firmly on the brake, threw his head back and thrust his hips up against Jethro's hand.

“Need me to drive?” Jethro smirked, a few moments later.

“I...Hate you...a little bit.” Tony gasped. 

“No you don't.”

Tony sighed. “Fine, I don't. But I will in about 10 minutes when I'm gross and sticky.”

Of course, they were right on time for dinner, which meant Tony was very uncomfortable the whole time, and not just because they were talking about the possibility of the the two of them having sex with their good friend to get her pregnant. In the end, though, Shannon agreed that she'd be willing to do it twice, as long as they kept her involved. Once for Jethro, and once for Tony. She also threatened to cut their balls off if they broke up after this whole discussion. Then told them she'd been keeping track of things, and it looked like they could start that week.

“You just need to get laid,” Jethro joked.

“Well, duh. And if I've got  _ two _ hot guys offering their services, I'd love to start as soon as possible!” She winked at them. “But go, rest...or, y’know,  _ whatever _ . Let's do lunch tomorrow.”

Tony barely got inside the door before Jethro had him pinned to the wall and was attacking his throat, growling against his skin possessively.

“Woah, there, Tiger!” Tony gasped, pushing Jethro back slightly. “I'm seriously feeling gross right now, which is your fault, so I'm going to shower. And shouldn't you be storing up for our big day?” He glanced at the hard cock pressing against the fly of Jethro's unbuttoned jeans.

“Damnit,” Jethro muttered.

“Come shower.” Tony gently stroked his chest. “If you want, we can work on some... _ stretching _ …” he gave his lover a sly grin.

“You think you're going to do that without me finishing?”

Tony shrugged and pulled Jethro toward the bathroom. “It doesn't have to be fucking. Let me. Please.”

In the shower, after cleaning each other, Tony began massaging Jethro's back. He pushed Jethro forward, leaning on his palms against the shower wall. “Nothing much, ok?”

Jethro nodded, feeling his cock harden more as Tony's hands kept sliding down, massaging his thighs, his ass, brushing against his balls and hole. But Tony didn't let the mood change. He’d started with a sensual massage, and even when he pressed a finger inside Jethro, that's all it was. Tony let his fingers slide into his lover, then back out just as quickly, getting him used to just the sensation of being penetrated, and relaxing his body. Soon, he started doing the same with two fingers at a time. When Jethro seemed totally comfortable with that, Tony wrapped his arms around his torso and pulled him close. “Let's dry off and do this with proper lube.”

On the bed, Tony again massaged Jethro's back, quickly making his way to his perfectly rounded and muscular ass, slipping two fingers inside easily. When he was up to three fingers, Jethro was moaning and breathless, practically a puddle of jello beneath Tony's skilled palms.

“Do you want to stop?” Tony asked.

Jethro's face was still pressed against the bedding beneath him, but he shook his head.

“Do you want to cum? We don't  _ have _ to wait…” Tony said, gently stroking Jethro's hips, thighs, and ass.

Jethro turned his head, “You cum. I want to feel you.” He figured he'd try to hold off, but if he came, he came. They had time to try again with Shannon.

Tony nodded and coated himself in lube, then pressed the head of his cock against Jethro's opening. He pushed forward slowly, groaning and gasping at just how damn good it felt to finally be inside his lover.

Jethro's moans were breathy and fast, until he felt Tony's body fully pressed against his. It burned, but the feeling of being slowly filled by the man he loved was more intimate and satisfying than he could have imagined.

“God…” Tony gasped, holding himself still as he felt Jethro shudder and tighten around him.

“'God' is a bit much…” Jethro mumbled.

Tony snorted and shook his head. “You ok?” He asked.

“More than. Move, Tony... please.”

That last word went right to Tony's groin. He'd been right all those months ago, Jethro was not one to plead for anything. Hearing the neediness in his voice spurred Tony on. He kept his pace slow and sensual, and quickly felt himself nearing his release.

Jethro could tell Tony was holding back, and he appreciated it. He could let himself enjoy this without pressure to rise to his own orgasm. He was hard and leaking, no doubt, and if Tony kept this up, he knew his body enough to know he'd cum. But he also knew Tony's body. Tony wasn't going to last much longer. His rhythm faltered and his breathing changed and became shaky, but he didn't speed up. With a low groan and Jethro's name on his lips, Tony thrust one final time, deep and hard, making Jethro shudder and moan. He felt Tony's cock spilling inside him and it almost sent him over the edge. 

Tony kissed Jethro's shoulders and back as he softened, smiling at the sharp intake of breath when he finally slipped out of his lover. “Y’ok now?”

Jethro didn't respond, but Tony could tell he was trying to slow his breathing. He gave the man a few minutes of gentle kissing and massage, before he rolled off his back.

“Better do this soon.” Jethro grumbled into the pillow.

Tony smiled, “her call, not mine. I'm just a college kid looking forward to a threesome.”

Jethro rolled his head to the side, watching Tony as best he could without moving. “Is that all?”

Tony scooted down on the bed and rested his head on the pillow, inches from Jethro's face. “No, that's not all.” He rolled his eyes and kissed Jethro. “I totally want to help you make this baby. Though, honestly, I can't wait to do that again and feel you cum around me.” He slid a hand down Jethro's back to his ass.

Jethro groaned, “no more… You're killing me!” He wanted so badly to stroke himself, and knew it wouldn't take much at all.

“Cold shower?” Tony suggested.

“You have a thing for showers.”

“True.” Tony nodded. “Wanna watch a movie?” 

“When have we ever finished a movie without fooling around?”

Tony sighed. “Point taken. Should I... I dunno, go?”

Jethro slipped an arm around Tony's waist, pulling him close. “No way.”

**

“This is so awkward.” Tony mumbled.

They'd been hanging out for a few hours, and nobody knew exactly how to make it less awkward. They were friends, and conversation was easy, laughter natural, but anything more was just weird.

Shannon sighed, “ok, I figured you two would get the ball rolling, since you're the ones used to each other, but fine.” She got up and stood in front of Tony. “Let's try  _ this _ .” She pulled her skirt up to mid thigh and straddled Tony's lap, settling directly on top of his cock. 

Tony swallowed hard and looked at Jethro, who shrugged. When he looked back at the redhead on his lap, she leaned down and kissed him. Tony kissed back, feeling like a cheater when Shannon started rocking against him and he started to get hard. Suddenly, the couch next to him sunk and he felt a rough hand working its way between them to unbutton his pants and slide inside. 

Slowly, the awkwardness disappeared as they all got more and more aroused. They stripped each other and eventually tumbled into bed together, kissing and touching and stroking and occasionally biting and Shannon seemed to like it when Tony gathered her long hair in his hand and held tight as Jethro paid direct attention to her throat. Jethro certainly liked it when Shannon pushed Tony down and held his wrists, straddling his waist and blocking his view while Jethro teased and licked and sucked from belly button to knee.

Later, Jethro stepped back a bit and took a few breaths, slowing his reaction and watching his lover slide his hand between his best friend's thighs. Shannon cried out as Tony pulled her leg aside and began teasing her clit. He might have preferred men, but Tony certainly had experience with women. He’d earned the moniker “Sex Machine” in several different ways.

Jethro groaned at the grin Tony tossed over his shoulder. He'd started to make his way down Shannon's body and was kneeling between her thighs, his ass high in the air, his back arched to give Jethro a perfect view. Jethro watched intently as Tony slipped his tongue between Shannon's lips. Immediately her hands dropped to Tony's hair, stroking and gripping it shakily. Jethro couldn't just watch anymore. He knelt next to Shannon and tightly grabbed the knee closest to him, pulling her legs farther apart, used his other hand to pull her hands away from Tony and above her head, then used his mouth to flick and lick and tease her breasts and nipples. 

Tony took the opportunity to slide two fingers inside her and began searching for the spot he knew would make her cum. It wasn't as easy as a prostate, but when she started shuddering and shouting and bucking against Jethro's hands, he figured he'd found it. 

Shannon had never felt like this before. She'd had good lovers, but two at once was  _ more _ than twice as good. Maybe it was because she cared about them so much, maybe it was because they cared about her. But all she could think at that moment was that her entire body was on fire and then she felt Jethro kissing her as she came, holding her body down so Tony could keep licking, keep sucking, keep fucking into her with his fingers until she felt another peak pass through her body. Tony withdrew and Jethro let her leg and wrists go, but kept his face next to hers. 

“You know I love you, right?” He asked, quietly.

She turned to look at him. She felt Tony crawl up the bed and settle on her other side. “Yes, I do.” She stroked his face and kissed him, “And I love you, Marine.” After a few moments, she turned to Tony. She brushed his tousled hair back off his forehead and smiled. “And I love you, college boy.” 

Once she was sure her legs weren't jelly, Shannon sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. “C’mere.” She crooked a finger and invited the two men to stand. When they did, she dropped to her knees in front of them. She took both their cocks in her hands and stroked them as she alternated licking and sucking on the tips. Tony reached down to touch her cheek, but she shook her head and pushed his hand away, placing it on Jethro's stomach. Jethro took Tony's hand and pulled him close, kissing him, and the pair began stroking each other's bodies, sometimes gripping and pinching and scratching, sometimes focusing on the nipples, sometimes ignoring them completely. 

All while Shannon knelt there and played with their cocks and balls, even pressing a finger inside both of them at the same time and grinning at the surprised groan they each let out, and the precum she felt sliding across her tongue and down her body.

Suddenly, she pushed them apart and backed away.

“Wha--!?” Tony grunted.

“I can tell when a guy is getting close, Tony. And if you're going to last long enough so I can watch you fuck Jethro, we need to stop.”

Tony grumbled under his breath, but nodded. He looked at Jethro and a grin spread across his face. “On the bed.” He ordered.

Jethro quirked an eyebrow, but Tony playfully shoved him down. “And what if I don't listen?”

Tony pushed his legs apart and pushed his hand against Jethro's ass, his fingers roughly spreading his cheeks. “Then this won't be as easy as last night.”

Jethro gasped at the sudden pressure against his entrance, and he wanted to rebut Tony's threat, but his body betrayed him. His cock twitched and he felt Tony's finger easily press inside him.

“Greedy, aren't we?” Tony grinned.

Jethro wasn't sure where this dominant Tony had come from, but right then, he didn't care. He huffed and tried not to moan, he didn't want to give Tony the satisfaction. It didn't work. Soon, after Tony had stretched him several fingers wide, ignoring his prostate, he whispered, “please, Tony…”

“What was that?” Tony asked innocently. “I can't hear you.”

Jethro growled, “I said please.”

“Well, that wasn't very nice, was it, Shannon?” Tony pulled his hand away from Jethro completely.

“I don't think so, Tony. Now Leroy, you really should have better manners.” Shannon straddled his thigh and leaned over Jethro, her hair cascading around her face and across his. She kissed him hard, then backed up, folding her arms across her chest. “Now, ask nicely.”

Jethro narrowed his eyes, but the two of them just sat above him, eyes wide, brows raised in expectation. Tony very slowly stroked himself, obviously already slick with lube, and Jethro could feel Shannon's own arousal, sliding on his thigh as she gently rocked against him. His own neglected cock, straining against the chilly air of the room, twitched against his stomach. He closed his eyes and aquiesced. “Fuck me, Tony. Please.” He begged. There was no debate, he was begging.

Shannon dropped on her back on the bed and pulled Jethro on top of her. He began sucking and kissing and nibbling on her jaw and throat and quickly thrust inside her. She cursed and gasped his name, then pulled his face back to hers to kiss him as he set a slow rhythm. Until she saw Tony behind him. 

Jethro stopped when he felt a hand on his hip, and dropped his head onto Shannon's shoulder as Tony entered him. It was faster than last night, it burned more, but Shannon ran her fingers over his short hair and caressed his neck and shoulders. He felt her shifting her hips, stroking him with her body, and the pain passed. 

Tentatively, Tony pulled out and pressed back, thankful the sounds from both Jethro and Shannon were ones of pleasure. He began thrusting, slowly at first, then deeper and faster, snapping his hips forward hard enough that it was forcing Jethro deeper into Shannon. Being slightly taller than Jethro, he was able to lean forward and rest his left arm on the bed by Jethro's shoulder, restricting how far his body rocked forward with each thrust. 

Jethro tried to take control of the pace, he tried to fuck Shannon properly, but when he felt Tony's forearm bracing against his shoulder, he gave up. He let himself be fucked, he let Tony set the pace for all of them. He focused instead on what he  _ could _ do. He slid a hand between his belly and hers, reaching for her clit, and kissed her hard.

Shannon felt the power behind Tony's thrusts. She was amazed Jethro hadn't done this before, it was incredibly hot. Tony set a rhythm that forced Jethro to comply, to relax into it and it was like Tony was fucking both of them. Especially when his other hand tangled in her hair and gripped the back of her head, exposing her neck again for Jethro to mark. 

Jethro was the first to cum, the dual assault on his body and previous night's activities combining to tip him over the edge with a shout. He kept circling Shannon's clit as Tony fucked into him harder, and he keened against her neck when he felt her cum, at nearly the same time as Tony. His still hard but oversensitive cock was gripped inside her, and Tony's speed increased, hammering against his prostate until he spilled deep inside Jethro.

**

“Holy fuck…” Shannon sighed, still entangled in the pile of post-orgasmic bliss.   
  
“Yeah.” Jethro nodded.   
  
“Uh huh.” Tony agreed.   
  
The three of them stayed on the bed for another half hour, maybe more, basking in the afterglow. Later, they sat in the living room and Tony brought a tray with three cups and sat it on the ottoman. “Normal coffee for you,” he handed Shannon one of the cups. “Normal coffee for me,” he sat another cup on the end table. “And tar for you.” He leaned over and kissed Jethro as he handed him the black coffee, then sat next to him and joined in the awkward silence.   
  
“I wasn’t really expecting…THAT…” Shannon finally said.   
  
“Well, it’s your and Tony’s fault,” Jethro shrugged, “you knew his nickname and you still sat on his lap.”   
  
Tony grinned, “well, I for one had a blast.”   
  
Shannon blushed, “I’m definitely not complaining.”   
  
Jethro draped a hand over Tony’s probably aching knee, massaging it gently. “Me either.”

**  
  
By the end of the six weeks, they’d had a LOT of sex. Sometimes Tony fucked Jethro, sometimes he barely participated, and none were as unexpectedly hot as their first time, but it was all good in its own way. Shannon had started her cycle, which was upsetting, but not unexpected, so they'd tried again. 

“Ok, I'll do it,” Shannon sighed as the two men pulled their bags into the hallway. “But it's early. I'm not even due. So don't get too upset if it's a negative.” She disappeared into the bathroom and came out less than a minute later, drying her hands. “ _ You've _ got the perfect internal clock. Two more minutes.” She waved at the bathroom door and sat on the couch, returning to the bowl of corn flakes she'd poured before Tony and Jethro had insisted she take a pregnancy test. “Damn.” She frowned. “And now they're soggy.”

Jethro tried to hide his disappointment when there was no evidence of that second line that would indicate they'd conceived. But Tony hugged him anyway.

“Could just be too early, y'know.” He said. “Shannon still has several days before she's even due, and these things work best if she's already late.”

Jethro pulled back and raised an eyebrow at him.

Tony shrugged, “so I read the box. Twice. Big deal. Point is, you're in too much of a rush.”

Jethro tossed the test in the trash and tried to figure out when he could come back to try again. Shannon interrupted his thoughts with a hug that nearly knocked him off his feet.

“Love you.” She said, kissing his cheek.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and smiled. “Love you too.” He heard the click of a camera shutter. “Really, Tony?” He rolled his eyes. Ever since Tony had been injured, he'd been looking for hobbies. Photography seemed to be sticking longer than some of the others, and Jethro wasn't sure how he felt about that, but he'd go along with it if it made Tony happy.

Tony grinned, dropped the camera back into his bag and rushed over, joining in their embrace.


	8. And Baby Makes Four

> _My dearest Leroy,_
> 
> _This letter will be a short one, but I hope you're happy with the contents. I've included a photo, but wanted to put it in words as well, since we won't see you for several weeks._
> 
> _I'm pregnant._
> 
> _Now, when are you proposing?_
> 
> _Love always,_
> 
> _Shannon_
> 
> _PS: T and I talked the other day (I didn't mention the good news, that's your job) and we wondered if we might move in together, at least through the pregnancy and newborn stage. New parents need help sometimes._

Jethro stared at the letter. Then the picture of three positive pregnancy tests. Then the letter.

> _I’m pregnant._

She took three tests to be sure.

> _Pregnant._

It was real.

“Hey Gunny,” Jethro startled and dropped the picture as one of his friends dropped his meal on the table and sat next to him. “Shit sorry, I got it.” The young man leaned over and grabbed the photo off the ground. He started to hand it over, then stopped. He looked back at it and slapped Jethro on the back. “Congrats! Man, let me tell ya, kids are great. I got two at home and one due in a few weeks! Don't know if I'll make it home before she's born, though. That's the worst part, watching ’em grow up in pictures.”

Jethro sighed. He'd wanted to be a parent, not some distant letter-writer. But he planned on going to the reserves at 35 or so. He'd miss most of the first years, he knew that going in, but he'd be home soon.

He had to call Tony.

> _When are you proposing?_

Crap.

***

_“Omigod, Leroy, you can't wait! I can't keep this from Tony when I'm spending a quarter of my day in the bathroom. By the way, 'morning sickness’ happens all goddamn day. And he'll know I'm sick. He's smart, give him a little credit. Besides, he's been looking at jobs out here and plans on visiting.”_

“You wanted me to propose.” Jethro mumbled.

Shannon sighed. _“Yes. But can you tell Tony about this first? It sounds all nice to do it together, but I can't do this alone.”_

The guilt hit him harder than he expected. “Ok. I'll call him now.”

_“Thank you...Dad.”_

They talked for a bit longer, then Jethro dialed Tony's number.

_“DiNozzo’s pizza, pickup or delivery?”_

“Hey babe,” Jethro chuckled, “I know what I want if you're delivering.”

 _“Ooh, sexy delivery boy, we haven't tried that one before”_ Tony practically purred into the phone. Jethro groaned quietly.

“You're killing me.”

_“No, I'm teasing you. You'll survive.”_

Jethro took a deep breath. “So, I'll be there in a few weeks, but I needed to tell you something important.”

 _“Are you ok?”_ Tony was instantly worried.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine! But... Shannon's gonna need some help for a while.”

Tony was silent for a few moments. _“Are you saying what I think you're saying?”_

“If you're thinking that she's pregnant...then yes.” Jethro backed away from the receiver when he heard a loud clatter on the other end. “Babe, you ok? You didn't faint, did you?”

_“Just dropped the phone. Um...ok. Wow, congrats.”_

“We're having a baby. _We_. Not me.”

Silence again.

“Tony?” Jethro said, quietly.

_“Yeah, yeah, I'm here. I'm...wow. I guess it's real, huh?”_

“It is. And I hate that I can't be there, but you can. You're going to be an awesome Papa.”

***

“I hate you both a little bit.” Shannon groaned.

Tony kissed her cheek, “let's just blame Jethro, he's not here to defend himself.” He kissed her firm belly, “see you soon, Spud.”

“At least help me up before you go,” Shannon held out her hands and wriggled her fingers. “I gotta pee. Again.”

Tony pulled her to her feet then fixed his uniform. “Might be late tonight, but I'll grab some ice cream on the way home.”

“We have some…” Shannon looked confused.

“For now.” Tony winked and pulled his sidearm and backup from the safe.

“If you're calling me fat, Anthony DiNozzo..” Shannon glared at him.

Tony laughed and pulled his camera from its place on the shelf, snapping a picture of Shannon in fleece pants, a tank top, and trying to cover the bottom of her 8-months pregnant belly.

“You didn't!” She yelled.

“I did. You'll thank me.” Tony kissed her cheek again, checked that he had everything secure and headed out to the car. He'd been a beat cop for 3 months now, and living with Shannon gave him the “cover” he needed, as did the plain silver band hanging around his neck. He wore it when he was off duty, and nobody ever guessed it wasn't a ring Shannon had put on his hand. Tony kept Jethro's gold band in the gun safe until he was home.

Shannon had a similar thin silver ring she wore until her fingers had swollen too much for it to fit. Jethro had gotten them each one, and they'd been surprised to realize that Shannon was turning into more than just a friend helping them have a family. She was part of it. Originally, she'd planned on moving out once the baby was a bit older and breastfeeding less. But now, they all agreed she'd stay as long as she wanted.

Another surprising development was when, sometime in the second trimester, she and Tony had started sharing a bed. For sleeping. At first.

When Jethro had come home for a week’s leave, they'd all made it into bed together, and could no longer deny that the friendship had evolved into something else entirely. Tony had been spending all of his time off with Shannon. They'd gone shopping for baby clothes together, talked about names that they would then present to Jethro, cooked together, and slept together. They were a team, a partnership, and there were times where their relationship was just as intimate as any marriage. Jethro had felt a connection with Shannon from the minute he talked with her at the train station, and he had loved her deeply ever since. Shannon couldn't imagine her life without her boys

It wasn't an easy revelation, but they all talked about it after Tony finished making Shannon pancakes (with mini chocolate chips and strawberries) at 3am.

“Jet, I'm so sorry,” Tony apologized, “I don't know why I feel like this...I love you so much, but I love Shannon too. In a different way, but I love her.”

Shannon slowly took a bite of the pancakes, trying not to draw attention to herself. She glanced over at her friend and saw him struggling to come up with a response. Putting the fork down, she sighed and scooted her chair closer to him and put a hand on his knee. “You had to know something like this might happen... we're close, and Tony has never been anything less than a gentleman, even if we're in bed together. He wears briefs _and_ pants, Leroy.”

Tony huffed. He hated wearing clothes to bed and Jethro knew it.

Shannon continued, in her firm but calm voice, “you two are the real deal. Tony loves you more than life itself, ok? But yes, we've gotten closer, and care for each other, and sometimes it's nice to be held and touched, and we wanted to talk with you about that. _Before_ anything happens.”

Jethro clenched and unclenched his jaw. The thought of Tony with Shannon twisted something in his chest, but not _just_ in a bad way. He was jealous, and afraid Tony would settle into “married” life with Shannon and forget about him. But he also felt a warmth that the two, soon to be three, people he cared about most in the world were happy and safe and could enjoy each other's company. “Ok.” He mumbled.

“Ok?” Tony asked, shocked. Jethro had been mute the whole time, and that was all he said?

“Yeah. I'm jealous, and I don't wanna hear about you two getting it on...but I get it.”

Shannon kissed him square on the lips, “you two are _so_ getting it on later,” she said, “but I'm here for you too. Look, this is weird and unconventional, and if I want a boyfriend, he damn well better be fine with all of this, but it's _us_. Don't go all silent on us. We're not planning anything, but we wanted to talk about what happens when feelings change. Because they will. They are.”

Jethro was surprised at himself when he looked into Shannon's eyes, and Tony's, and actually believed it.

The next morning, Tony wrapped himself around his lover. “I miss you,” he mumbled against his skin, laying soft kisses everywhere he could reach. “Please...don't go away just because of what we said,” his voice sounded small. Smaller than Jethro had ever heard.

He was scared. Jethro sighed and tipped his chin up with a fingertip. “I have to go away, but I'll be back. I'm yours, Anthony DiNozzo, you can't get rid of me that easily.” He watched Tony's eyes water, and kissed him soundly, pushing forward until he was on top of Tony, their naked bodies pressed together, and hard cocks sliding against each other.

Tony kissed back, bringing one hand to Jethro's face, and bringing the other around his back to pull him closer, letting Jethro rest his full weight on top of him. They spent the next few hours reconnecting, kissing, touching, and making love. Tony was completely drained, physically and emotionally, by the time he fell asleep in Jethro's arms.

This would work. They'd all be ok.

***

“I'm. Never. Doing. This. Again!” Shannon growled at Tony, squeezing his hand through the pain.

Tony grimaced, but wisely kept any comments to himself, slightly readjusting his hand to avoid broken bones.

Finally, Shannon fell backwards onto the bed, getting a short break between contractions. “This sucks. Next time, he can get _you_ pregnant.”

“If I could, I would.” Tony pushed her hair back off her forehead and kissed her.

“Is Leroy coming?” She asked, her eyelids starting to droop with exhaustion.

“He's on his way. I called before we came. He'll be here.”  Tony stroked her hair, glancing at the clock when she tensed and sat up again, wrapping one arm around her stomach.

A few moments later, she relaxed. “Damn well better be soon.”

Jethro rushed into the hospital, skipping the elevator in favor of the stairs to the 5th floor. Before he could even ask, a nurse caught his attention. “Gibbs?” He turned toward her, “521, You're cutting it close” she gestured in the general direction of the room with a smile.

Breathless, Jethro pushed open the door to see Shannon standing by the bed leaning on Tony and rocking. He dropped his bag by the door and walked forward, ready to hug her, until she growled at him.

“Don't. Touch. Me.” She said.

He was offended at first, until he noticed Tony's hands were stiff at his side. He shrugged. Obviously he'd been given the same order.

Two hours later, after Shannon had told a doctor and two nurses to go fuck themselves when they told her she needed to lie down, Jethro held his daughter in his arms. Of course, Shannon had done it her way, pushing before any doctors made it into the room, Jethro had caught the newborn, and once the doctors did arrive, Tony cut the cord. Within a few hours, the baby was wrapped and sleeping.

Jethro curled against Shannon on the bed, both of them stroking the baby's face, and Tony couldn't resist. He snapped several pictures.

“Ok, no fair, I look like crap, Tony,” Shannon groaned.

“You're beautiful.” Tony kissed her. He glanced at the closed door, then kissed Jethro too. “And I'm lucky as hell to have both of you.” He paused, “all three of you.”

Later, Tony held the baby, they’d named Kelly, while Shannon went to shower. When she returned, Tony was asleep on the chair, mouth open and slightly drooling, with Kelly on his chest. Jethro was rubbing her back with his face pressed against Tony's cheek. She grabbed Tony's camera and snapped a photo. Turnabout was fair play.

As Tony and Jethro packed everything to leave two days later, one of the nurses slipped into the room. “Ok, y’all are too cute...do you want a picture of all of you?” He asked.

Jethro stuttered, still dressed in the fatigues he'd worn on his way here, and Tony gripped his camera.

“Sweetie, we see all sorts, you're not the first homos to have a baby. Not even the first military one. Most of us don't care, and as the resident queer, the girls sent me in to help. I get it, but you _do_ want a group picture, trust me.” He held out his hand.

“Thank you.” Shannon said from the wheelchair, holding Kelly tight to her chest. She tipped her head, indicating Tony should give him the camera.

Over the next several months, with Jethro gone most of the time, and Tony working overtime in Philly every time he did come home, the three of them were incredibly grateful for that young nurse. They'd made a large print of that photo, even though it was slightly crooked and Tony had a weird look on his face and Kelly had started screaming, and framed it above the fireplace.

***

Tony came home to the nearly empty house, a box in his arms. “Hel-lo? Honey, I'm ho-ome!”

“Upstairs!” Came the reply. Tony dropped his box and took the steps two at a time. He found his husband and wife (because that's really how they lived) splashing his toddler in the tub, the three of them equally soaked and grinning.

“Hey hot stuff.” Tony draped his arms around Jethro's shoulders and started sucking on the side of his neck from behind.

Shannon splashed him with sudsy water, “get a room!”

Tony chuckled and pulled Jethro tighter. “Oh, we will.”

Jethro leaned back into Tony's embrace. “How'd your last day go?”

Tony shrugged. “Cleaned out the locker, brought home some cake from the Sarge, caught a perp, same old same old.”

Kelly started clapping, “Kay! Kay!”

Shannon groaned, “you could've skipped the c-a-k-e part.”

“Kay!”

Tony chuckled, “cake tomorrow little Spud. It's bedtime. Who's singing?"

“Papa!” She reached for him.

Tony grabbed her Minnie mouse towel and swooped her out of the tub. As the other two cleaned the bathroom and dried off, Tony dressed Kelly, read her a story, and sang her to sleep.

Downstairs, Shannon snuggled against Jethro. “I can't believe it's time.”

“New house, family vacation, 3 month leave, I can't believe it either.”

Over the next 3 months, the family moved into a large arts and crafts style home just outside Washington DC, enrolled Kelly in daycare so Shannon could get a part time teaching job, and packed their bags for Denmark.

On the plane back, Tony and Jethro's left ring fingers wearing newly purchased white gold bands, the four of them slept against each other. In the quiet of the overnight flight, Shannon kissed Jethro's temple. “You have no idea how happy I am for you.”

“Happy for _us_ ,” he answered.

“No. You. I know you both love me, and I love you. But I meant it when I said you're the real deal. This wedding was all you two and I'm so incredibly happy for you. You were hurting and angry for such a long time. Now you're not. He's really good for you.”

Jethro stroked Tony's hair as he slept. “He is, isn't he?”

Jethro couldn't believe how far he'd come these past few years. Here he was, 30 years old, with a husband he loved and to whom he was now legally wed (ok, unioned...semantics), a wife they both loved, and a perfect toddler who was still wearing the purple frilly dress Shannon had chosen for her role as flower girl. He was happy.


	9. The Beginning of the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING:  
> Graphic child/family loss (loosely canon-based)  
> Summary at the end if you'd like to skip.

Tony shifted in his seat, watching his home from across the street and two houses away. “Jet, I’m staying here. If I’m not on duty, I’m here. I’ll shower when they’ve got a bigger protection detail.”  
  
_“Tony, be careful. And if anyone goes near those girls…”_  
  
“They’re mine.” Tony growled, then sipped his coffee. Ever since Shannon had witnessed that murder, he’d been drinking a lot more of it, and it was a lot stronger.  
  
" _Have you seen anything?”_  
  
“No. This team is pretty thorough. They’ve checked on me a few times too, and took my badge number and everything. I told them I was a friend of yours, and I think one of them figured us out, but the rest probably think Shannon’s having an affair, especially when she told them she was pregnant. I’m sure they did the math and knew you weren’t here for that. But, y’know what? That’s fine with me, if it means I’m still here.”  
  
_“How are they?”_ Jethro’s voice was strained. He’d talked with Shannon on the phone, but they’d been limited in their conversation. NIS was thinking about moving them to a safe house, and then he’d have no way to contact them. It would take another several days to get his leave approved and arrange transport from Kuwait.  
  
“They’re OK. Shannon is not happy that Agent Franks wouldn’t let her get another one of those mint cookie ice cream cake monstrosities she’s been eating for the past 2 weeks, even in this weather. Oh, she got in his face! I wish I could have been there.” Tony inhaled deeply, keeping his voice steady. “I watched it through the window, then she told me about it later. Once they get up and head out in the morning, I’ll grab her one.”

_“They're still available? I thought that was a summer thing?”_

Tony laughed, “the Carvel started making them just for her. Never disappoint a pregnant lady with morning sickness, even if it's freaking February.”  
  
_”I’m surprised she’s not craving Hazelnut, with all the creamer you like…”_ Jethro chuckled.  
  
“Yeah.” Tony hadn’t slept in his bed in almost a week, and all he wanted was to hold Shannon and put his hand on her barely growing belly like he did almost every night since they’d found out. His heart ached every time he saw her out and about. “I’m sorry.” He whispered into the phone.  
  
_”Rule 6…”_ Jethro started, but Tony interrupted.  
  
“No, don’t quote rules, Jet. I don’t know how you do it. Being gone so much all these years. Dating is one thing, but this… I’m sorry I never realized how much it hurts. And fuck, it hurts babe. All the pictures…seeing them gone? Finding them in a box mailed to the station? I know we agreed that this was how it had to be, but…” His voice caught in his throat.  
  
Shannon was, according to the US government, Jethro’s wife. Nobody knew about his marriage to Tony, and Jethro’s benefits were better than his. Unfortunately, simply being with a man in any way would be an automatic discharge for Jethro, and the knowledge that the three of them were involved would likely wreak havoc with all of their lives. When Shannon had witnessed that crime, the minute she found out they were going to be keeping her under surveillance, she called Tony. He’d done a preliminary sweep of the house, removing most of the obvious evidence of his presence, before NIS had come back to clear it for Shannon and Kelly to come home. The big photo that once rested above the fireplace was now sitting on the dresser in his motel room. The motel room he hadn’t yet slept in because he’d been up all night watching the house, and crashing at the station whenever he could. Shannon had gone through smaller items and sent them to him, just in case the NIS agents were more thorough than necessary. He still carried the letter she’d written and included in the box. Their home wasn’t a home anymore. Jethro wasn’t there physically, Tony couldn’t be there more than once or twice a day without arousing suspicion, and now their family photos were half gone and the house was just…empty.  
  
_”I put in my papers, Tone. After this, I’m done. I’ll find something out there. I can’t do this anymore. I missed Kelly’s first steps…her first words…I can’t miss her first day of school, her first report card…I’m coming home.”_  
  
Tony leaned back against the headrest and stared at the ceiling of the car, trying to will away the tears. “We’ll be so happy when you’re home. _I’ll_ be so happy.” He spun the ring hanging on the chain around his neck, “I love you more than anything.”  
  
Jethro’s voice dropped to barely a whisper, _”And I love you. College boy.”_  
  
Tony smiled, “nuh-unh, I have a uniform now.”  
  
Jethro snorted, _”You gonna frisk me, officer?”_  
  
“First chance I get, Marine.”  
  
Eventually, Jethro had to go, and Tony hung up the phone. He was lucky he’d had the money to spring for a car with one in the console. Jethro made constant James Bond jokes when he rode with Tony, but it came in handy fairly often. Like now.  
  
**  
  
Tony stretched and yawned when he saw the NIS agent jog toward his car. He rolled down the window, “Hey Agent, how’s it going?”  
  
“Pretty quiet, officer. We’ve got two units coming to watch the house, and I’m taking the girls out now. Just wanted to let you know.” He held out his hand. “You should rest, we’ll see you tonight.”  
  
Tony shook his hand and headed out as soon as he saw the van pull out of the driveway, with the unmarked car a few lengths behind. His first stop? Carvel. He had them put little Minnie Mouse frosting shapes on top of the cake for Kelly, and checked his watch. He had plenty of time to bring the cake to the house, leave it in the freezer with a note, shower and change at the motel, and get to work.  
  
Except the traffic on the way there was at a standstill. He saw flashing lights ahead and his stomach dropped. _It isn’t them, Tony. They’re safe, you JUST saw them. You waved to them. They smiled at you. Stop freaking out. It’s just an accident_ .  
  
But just in case, he flipped on his radio and turned it to the police band and gripped the steering wheel.  
  
” _MVC with multiple casualties, one GSW, I need a 10-66.”_  
  
Tony’s heart dropped. This was a low crime neighborhood. Usually. _Multiple casualties…10-66_ …If they were calling in the M.E., it was a suspicious death…He reached across and flipped his visor down, turning on his lights and siren. His gut was churning and even though it was probably just paranoia, he’d be damned if he was going to wait until these people got moving.  
  
As the cars slowly parted to let him through, Tony focused on the road. The lights were getting closer, until he slammed on the brakes. There, amongst the black and white patrol cars and the empty ambulance, stood Agent Franks, his hand across his mouth, and shaking his head.  
  
_No_ .  
  
_No_ .  
  
“NO!” Tony got out of the car, door open, engine running, and sprinted toward the cluster of uniformed officers. “NO! Franks! Goddamnit! It’s not them!” He barely noticed when three of his fellow men in blue stopped him abruptly. One recognized him and tried to talk him down, but Tony couldn’t listen. He kept pushing, fighting against their holds, twisting and dipping, until he broke through and stumbled forward the last ten feet, until the twisted pile of red metal came into view. He fell to his knees.  
  
“No…”  
  
Even upside down and mangled, it was still obvious it had been a van.  
  
He saw a flash of his family waving at him through the windows of a minivan.  
  
A red minivan.  
  
“But I…I got the ice cream…” Tony stuttered. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.  
  
Agent Mike Franks knelt on the ground beside him. “You can’t be here.” He said, softly.  
  
“No, no, it’s fine…I’ll go…Which hospital? They had to get checked out, right? Kelly loves Minnie Mouse, I got her a cake…Shannon’s favorite…the baby loves mint chocolate chip, y'know…so it’s for all three of them” Tony brushed the tears off his face and went to stand. _They’re just at the hospital…they’ll be fine…_  
  
“Officer DiNozzo…”  
  
“Just tell me which hospital, and I’ll be outta your hair.” Tony nodded, determined to find his family, no matter the consequences.  
  
“Tony…they’re gone.”  
  
Tony rolled his eyes, hoping for nonchalance, “I figured that, but where?”  
  
Mike turned and looked pointedly at the three white sheets still lying in the road, a small wisp of red hair barely visible where the cold breeze had flipped the corner of one. The EMTs were still packing up equipment they’d already put to use trying to save the victims.  
  
Tony shook his head, “No. No.” He started to back away, tears streaming down his face.  
  
“Officer Wright,” Agent Franks gestured to one of the older men standing by the squad cars, “Can you take Officer DiNozzo down to the station? Get him some coffee, I’ll be there soon.”  
  
Tony jerked away when Officer Wright touched his shoulder. “My daughter…where’s my baby? She's too little too testify, where is she?” Tony begged, hoping this was only about the case  
  
“Son…I’m sorry…”  
  
Tony suddenly shut down. He dropped his arms to his sides and followed Officer Wright in a daze. He didn’t remember the ride to his own station. He didn’t even notice when they sat him on the battered old couch in the sergeant’s office and handed him a coffee. His fellow officers took care of him until Agent Franks could brief him on the particulars. More particulars than he probably should have, but Mike was a smart man. He’d seen through their ruse, noticed that the ring around Tony’s neck matched the ring on Jethro’s finger in the family photos. He treated Tony just how he would treat any other grieving spouse. And he vowed that this bastard would pay the price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10-66 is a standard code for “alert/call the Medical Examiner” 
> 
> MVC=motor vehicle collision
> 
> GSW=Gun shot wound
> 
> ***  
> Summary: Jethro is overseas when Shannon, pregnant with Tony's child, witnesses the Hernandez murder. Tony has to take a sideline to the investigation and protection detail, and is forced to remove photos of himself from the home to protect Jethro's position in the USMC. Some of the NIS agents have made the connection, but respect his position. Tony is away getting ice cream when he hears a report of a car crash on his police radio, and comes upon the crime scene. He's obviously devastated, and Mike Franks treats him like any other grieving spouse.


	10. Broken

Tony curled up on the motel bed and ignored the ringing phone. The little red light in the corner told him he had messages, but he didn't care. His supervisor had given him a few weeks off, but he didn't plan on going back at all. He couldn't stay here. He had nothing left.

Nothing.

Tony clutched the matching pair of gold rings and sobbed. They'd lost the mother of their child. Child _ren_. They'd lost their beautiful little girl. They'd lost the baby who never got to be. And Jethro blamed him.

He'd left them to get ice cream.

He'd been lulled into a false sense of security.

He'd broken his promise.

It _was_ his fault.

***

Jethro stared at the only picture left in the house of all of them. A small reprint of the hospital photo he kept in his gun safe.

His bloody fingerprint smeared across Kelly's tiny pink face, and he cursed, wiping the open wounds on his shirt and cleaning the photo as best he could. He'd been angry. Enraged. He'd thrown half their dishes across the floor and put his hand through the glass of the French doors between the dining and family rooms. But he didn't care. He was numb.

He hadn't been here.

Gone for months at a time, an absentee husband and father. Tony had taken the role he'd always seen for himself, and until now, Jethro hadn't begrudged him one bit.

Until he met him at the airstrip and tried to hug him. His face, puffy from constant crying, hurt yet again when Jethro pushed him away. He wanted someone to blame. They couldn't get the man who’d done it, so he took his pain out on the one person left in the world that he loved. Because he was convenient, and vulnerable, and already blamed himself, and Jethro knew it all. When they saw each other last, Jethro had flung his ring at Tony's head, obscenities and vitriol chasing after it as Tony effortlessly caught the small piece of gold.

Tomorrow was the funeral. Shannon's parents had planned the whole thing. They blamed him for all of it. For taking Shannon away from them, for not seeing their granddaughter enough, for not being here to protect them. In their eyes, he'd gotten their little girl pregnant out of wedlock, then just left her with another man. Tony had taken care of her, then she'd married Jethro anyway. They'd asked Tony's opinion on plans, and ignored him. They hugged Tony right in front of him, and Mac had turned his back on Jethro.

Fine. It let him stew at home, trying to convince himself that he could blame someone else. Being angry at everyone and pretending he wasn't hating himself.

Pretending he didn't feel like shit for hurting Tony.

He'd make it up to him. But not right now. Right now he needed to be left alone. He needed the anger. The angrier he was, the more he could push down the empty hole left in his heart. He'd hurt Tony, but Tony was strong. He'd be ok, and they'd fix this.

After tomorrow.

Jethro glanced at the slip of paper he'd gotten from Mike Franks, the investigating agent. He knew what he had to do, and he couldn't tell Tony. Jethro was a Marine, trained to take out the enemy by whatever means necessary. Tony was a cop. An officer of the law, inspired by the ethics and morals deep in his soul. He'd never approve of what Jethro planned to do. Jethro’s chest tightened and he absentmindedly stroked the bare spot on his left hand where his wedding ring should be. He vowed to fix things after tomorrow and after he took care of Hernandez. After he put the blame where it was due.

***

“Where the hell is he?”

“He wasn't here for Shan when she was alive, Mac, why the hell should we expect him to be here now? I knew he was no good.” Joann shook her head.

Tony frowned. “He'll be here.” He whispered. “He loved her, and the Bab...baby.” his voice caught. He'd almost said ‘babies,’ but nobody else knew Shannon was pregnant.

“Sure didn't show it.” Joann scoffed.

Tony turned to her, tears in his eyes, his voice low and more threatening than anyone expected. “He showed it every goddamn day. Every letter, every call, every leave spent just loving them. They were his life. He's a Marine, and that means he couldn't be with his family no matter how much they meant to him or how much he wanted to be here. He was the best father and husband anyone could ask for.”

Shannon's parents simply nodded and backed away, finding their seats at the front of the room. Tony stood by the tiny casket, laying a hand on the shining wood and couldn't stop the tears. He believed all those things, but knew his husband would never be the same again. Neither would he.

“I shouldn't have said those things.”

Tony's jaw clenched and he refused to turn around. “No, you shouldn't have.”

“I was angry, and...you were there.” Jethro sat his hand on the casket, his pinky barely touching Tony's. “I'm sorry.”

Tony jerked his hand back as if he'd been burned. “You can't just apologize and make it go away. You're not the only one who lost them.” He wiped the tears from his eyes and squared his shoulders, facing the man who'd just added to his devastation instead of supporting him, instead of letting Tony support him too.

Jethro hung his head. “I know.” They stood in silence for a long while, as friends and family milled past, offering condolences and support.

“You're hurt.” Tony said, glancing at Jethro's hand.

“Got in a fight with a door.” He mumbled.

“Did it help?”

“No.”

More silence. Someone was standing at a podium near them talking about Shannon's life, having decided to start even though Tony and Jethro still stood beside their girls. They didn't leave, didn't move, the whole time.

When they were mostly alone, Jethro leaned closer to Tony, grateful he didn't flinch this time, but he didn't make an effort to come closer. “I have something I need to take care of. And then I promise you, we'll talk. I won't leave us like this. I'll do what I need to do, then file my papers to move to the reserves. I know I fucked up. But I know I can't fix it. Not yet. I…”

Tony closed his eyes when Jethro paused. He could tell his husband was trying to contain his emotions, and just hearing the shake in his voice was almost enough to make Tony want to forgive him.

Almost.

“I just don't have it in me right now.” Jethro said, exhaling in defeat.

“Do what you need to do, but I'm not waiting around for you. I'm leaving. Already applied to a few different police departments. I'll see you around. Gibbs.” Tony gently stroked each coffin, kissing the tops before leaving Jethro where he stood.


	11. Ten Years

Tony shivered in the cold, gently brushing the falling snow off the headstone. Shannon’s parents had been astonished at how much he’d been able to contribute toward one, but they all agreed she’d rather it went to a good cause. This was nice, but simple, and the other $10,000 Tony had pulled from his trust fund went to a foundation studying childhood cancer in Shannon and Kelly’s names.   
  
“Ten years.” He whispered. “It still hurts, every day. Even Wendy knew it. She said no, y’know. Said she couldn’t stand playing second fiddle.” He shrugged, “Makes sense, I guess. Everyone deserves to be someone’s everything. I couldn’t do that for her.”   
  
His phone dinged, they had a case and he’d have to haul ass if he wanted to get there before Danny. He laid the roses, ten red and two yellow, across the stone as he did every year, kissed his fingertips and dragged them across the names chiseled on the front. “Miss you girls.”   
  
***   


Jethro ground his teeth as he filled out his last report. He hated the paperwork. It should be enough that he caught the bastard, but no, he ended up staying until 1am just to file the papers. He’d much rather do the grunt work than this management shit. He didn’t have to stay this late, of course, but what was the point of going home? An empty house with an old couch and a giant bottle of bourbon to welcome him? He touched the piece of metal in his jacket pocket, feeling the curve of the small flask. He could picture the inscription, a gift Shannon and Kelly had sent him when he was first deployed to Kuwait, the dip of the bullet hole evident through the fabric. That flask had saved his damn life.  
  
Ten years since he’d lost them. Lost his girls. The most important people in his life. He hated that he couldn’t remember his entire wedding day, things were full of holes after the explosion, but he remembered Kelly’s dress. He remembered swooping her into his arms and holding her tight and being happy. He remembered the feeling of being surrounded by love and joy. At least that's what he thought happiness felt like. It had been so long, he wasn't sure.  
  
As usual, he’d worked through the entire anniversary. He’d stop by the cemetery tonight, no doubt finding a dozen frozen roses atop the stone as he did every year. Maybe that was why he never went there during the day. He couldn’t face her parents. He claimed he didn’t care what they thought, but he did. He knew they blamed him just as much as he blamed himself, and he didn’t look forward to the day he’d eventually run into them.  
  
***  
  
“You can’t outrun me! I’m wearing tube socks!” Tony shouted, chasing the perp in the stupid black cap. He was fast, but Tony was faster. He closed in on the man and leapt, tackling him onto the ground and pinning him.  
  
And then he froze. His jaw clenched and his breathing picked up, and even though the man wasn’t resisting, Tony slammed his fist into his face. “You son of a bitch.” He growled. Roughly, he rolled the man, cuffed him, and dragged him to the black and white, tossing him ungracefully in the back, ignoring the blood pouring from his split lip.  
  
Danny pulled him aside, “What the fuck, dude? He’s just some old douchebag, you had him. We don’t need him suing the department for brutality.”  
  
Tony glared, “Resisting arrest. His word against ours.” He wasn’t about to tell his partner why the sight of this man enraged him. Nobody knew about his past, except that he’d lost his family before hightailing it to Peoria for some peace and quiet. They knew he didn’t like talking about it, but they had no idea he wasn’t totally straight.  
  
Not that he’d dated any guys since ‘91. A one night stand here or there, but he couldn’t stand the thought of being with any of them. Plus, it was never good for cops who came out. The rest of the world was more tolerant than it had been in the eighties, but it seemed the military and law enforcement were stuck in a never-ending misogynistic, homophobic cycle.  
  
All he could see were the returned letters. The stamped responses telling Tony, in bright red letters, that Gibbs had left. No forwarding address. Tony had settled in Illinois, found a decent apartment, made some friends, and decided he’d make the first step. He wanted to reach out, to let his husband know he was willing to try and work through it. When the first few letters had come back, he’d feared the worst. He called every contact he could find, he scanned obituaries, he even found the phone number for the general store owned by one Jackson Gibbs in Stillwater Pennsylvania. Through him, he learned that Gibbs was alive. Injured in the line of duty, but alive and healing. Unfortunately, even Jack didn’t know more than that. Tony tried more letters, and they all came back. Gibbs had promised to come back, promised to fix it, and even though Tony didn’t know if he could ever forgive him for tearing him to pieces that day, it broke him even more to know that he wouldn’t even try. He couldn’t be bothered.  
  
And now here he was. A washed up Marine being driven to holding, fingerprinted, and booked. Tony had risen through the ranks of the Baltimore PD, the youngest cop in the city to get his gold shield, and Gibbs was a common criminal. He wasn’t usually bitter anymore, but it did put a small smile on his face to think about it. Tony couldn’t wait to get him into an interrogation room. He’d probably be outed, but what the hell, it was almost time for him to move on anyway. Somewhere sunny. He could work on his tan. Florida? No... California.  
  
**  


Jethro sat at the redheaded detective’s desk, holding an ice pack to his cheek as the two cops whispered to each other. The taller one had quite a right hook. He tried to ignore the fact that he’d gotten aroused the minute he’d straddled his hips. He didn’t know what the connection was, but he felt like he knew this cop. They hadn’t worked together, he’d have remembered that, but obviously Jethro had done something to piss him off. Unfortunately, that happened so often, he could never remember everyone who had a reason to be pissed.  
  
”He says he’s a Navy cop, DiNozzo. No creds, but gave me a number to call.”  
  
”And you believe him?” Tony hissed.  
  
“Doesn’t matter if I do or don’t. You wanna call, you go right ahead. I’ll keep him here.” Danny handed him the paper from his notebook with the number on it.  
  
“Yeah, I’ll check.” Tony said, loudly, glaring at Gibbs, and left the room to make some calls. It made sense, going from active duty to NIS (now NCIS). Franks had offered him a position, but he hadn’t taken it. Gibbs must have gotten the same offer. Even though it made more sense than him becoming a smuggler, it wasn’t quite as gratifying.  
  
Tony looked at the number in his hand, then crumpled it and tossed it in the trash. He’d learned long ago he couldn’t trust the man, why should he start now. He dialed their forensics team manager. “Hey Ward, how’s it going?”  
  
 _“Same shit, different day, DiNozzo. What’cha need?”_  
  
“Need everything you can find on Marine Gunnery Sergeant Leroy Jethro Gibbs, age 42. Claims to be an agent with NCIS out of the DC Navy Yard.”  
  
 _“NCIS? Yeah, I can get that. I know one of their analysts…bit weird, but damn, she was great—“_  
  
Tony cut her off “OK, ok, ok, I get it!” He chuckled, “I’m up for girl-on-girl talk as much as the next guy, but let’s save it for after work?”  
  
 _“Is that a request, Detective?”_  
  
Tony smirked, “Think she’d be up for joining us for drinks?”  
  
Officer Ward snorted, _“Probably. But as much of a looker as you are, I gotta say no. Again.”_  
  
“Hey, gotta give a guy points for trying.” Tony knew Stacy Ward was definitely not into men, but it was a run on joke between them. Danny had cautioned him it might be seen as sexual harassment…until he witnessed Stacy grabbing Tony’s ass in the hallway. The “harassment” was a two way street.  
  
Tony hung up the phone and sighed. He should join his partner in the squad room. He really should. He brushed his hand across his chest, where he had a small, faded tattoo over his heart. It was 3 sets of simple initials, SMD-G, KAD-G, KD-G, followed by the worst date of his life. 2-28-91. He’d gotten it a year after the crash, after drinking the day away in a small bar and stumbling into a sketchy tattoo parlor. Shannon Marie DiNozzo-Gibbs, Kelly Anne Dinozzo-Gibbs, and the baby’s name would have started with a K. Katherine or Kyle were two he and Shannon had briefly discussed, though Kristine and Keith were in the running. Middle names hadn't come up.  
  
Slowly, Tony stood and stepped back into the room, watching Danny do his “good-but-skeptical-cop” routine. Gibbs wasn’t falling for it, and simply sat next to him, lip no longer bleeding, one eyebrow cocked and half a smirk on his face. Smug bastard.  
  
A part of Tony, a small part, couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness. He missed that smirk. He missed his smile. He missed really smiling.  
  
“OK,” Tony said loudly, approaching the desk, “I’ve got someone checking on you. So…you say your name is Leroy Jethro Gibbs? That’s a bit too hillbilly for me…I’m just gonna call you _Gibbs_.” He glared, hoping the declaration would sting. Or hit a nerve. Anything. Daring him to say something about their relationship.  
  
“ _Agent_ Gibbs.” It was the only reaction. No spark of hurt, no anger…just…amusement.  
  
He was smirking at Tony, as if he hadn’t torn his soul to shreds ten years ago. As if he didn’t care. Tony stood quickly and went to leave again. “I’m gonna check with Ward.”  
  
Danny glanced at his watch, “Give her some time, man. Our friend isn’t going anywhere, relax.”  
  
“He’s _not_ my friend.” Tony spat out and stormed out of the room.  
  
“Jeez, what did you say to get him to punch you? He’s never like this,” Danny stared at the supposed agent.  
  
Gibbs shrugged, “Didn’t say anything.” _What DID I do?_ he thought.   
  
In the hall, Tony paced, holding his small cell phone in his hand. He stared at the green screen, waiting for it to light up. After several minutes, he gave up waiting. “Ward…Anything?”  
  
 _”Damn, DiNozzo, I’m not a magician. I confirmed he’s a fed, undercover at the moment, but you said to give you everything I could find. I’m still finding stuff.”_   
  
Tony sighed, “What do you have so far?”   
  
_”Leroy Jethro Gibbs, born 1959 in Stillwater Pennsylvania. Mother deceased, father runs a general store. Four marriages on file, first wife and only child died in 1991, two short marriages after that, and this one is about a year in and it looks like she’s filed for divorce. Served in the Marines until almost dying in an explosion in Kuwait in summer 1991. Had a year of PT after that, and his file says he had retrograde amnesia. Aside from that, some knee problems, and some farsightedness, he was healthy enough to join NCIS under an Agent Mike Franks. Never got him a partner after Franks retired, though. They’ve all quit_.”  
  
“Holy crap, Ward, you got all that from their analyst?”  
  
 _“Oh, no, she just confirmed he was an agent, had been there about 10 years, and she slipped about his divorce. I hung up after I got another date from her; found the rest on my own. I have my ways.”_   
  
Tony sighed. _Retrograde amnesia…_ “Anything to say what he did and didn’t remember?”  
  
 _”I may have my ways, but I’m not a miracle worker, hon. I can keep digging, though. Did he do something? If I alert the feds I’m looking into him, and they ask, what should I say?”_   
  
Tony sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. _What if he doesn’t remember? “_ No, no, that’s enough. I just like to know who I’m dealing with, y’know? Make sure he’s not an idiot.”   
  
_”Judging by his solve rate, he’s definitely not an idiot.”_  
  
“I figured that. Thanks.” Tony hung up the phone. He took a deep breath and steeled his nerves. He’d work the case. They’d work together and catch the bad guy. If Gibbs didn’t remember him, Tony couldn’t force it. He’d hurt Tony, and nobody would begrudge him a little revenge, bringing old wounds to the surface, but Tony wasn’t like that. They’d loved each other totally and completely. He couldn’t stoop to that level and hurt him just because he was hurt. He threw on his fake, jovial grin and sauntered back into the squad room. Whether Gibbs remembered or not, he wasn’t saying anything, so Tony wouldn’t either.


	12. A New Job

Tony watched Danny leave, and he sat on a chair in the man’s living room. He'd managed to work the case with Gibbs, eventually developing a decent, if uncomfortable, rapport. But it was all too much. The man he'd once loved had torn him apart and then forgotten he existed, and the man he should have been able to trust with his life had turned out to be dirty. 

He should turn Danny in. 

He should confront Gibbs.

Tony sat in silence for a long while, still unsure about any of the decisions he needed to make. Danny was a good guy, he hadn't known this would have ended in deaths, of that Tony was sure. But it was illegal, and crimes always have a way of blowing up, and Danny should have seen that. It was the right thing to do. Well, it was the  _ legal _ thing to do, but  _ was _ it right? What would it change? All it would do is ruin Danny's life.  _ Justice.  _ Tony wasn't sure he believed in justice anymore. He definitely didn't believe in its cousin, fairness.

Then there was Gibbs. He'd hurt Tony more than he ever thought possible, but it was in a moment of fear and anger and uncontrollable sadness. That didn't make it OK, but Tony could almost understand. And then he'd left. But Tony was sure he'd forgotten, or maybe he would have kept his promise and come back to make things right.

But he forgot. From what he found out, he remembered Shannon and Kelly, but forgot all about  _ their _ marriage. Tony hung his head, resting it in his hands. There really was no point in bringing up the past he'd forgotten, and it obviously wasn't important enough for him to remember in the first place. 

Just as Tony decided he'd just move on, rather than destroy Danny’s life, he stood and nearly ran into Gibbs as he threw open the door. “What the hell, Je--Gibbs?” Tony huffed, standing his ground.

Gibbs shrugged, “I had a hunch. What're you gonna do?”

His voice was thoughtful. Understanding. Different from the gruff hardass he'd been during the case. He sounded like Tony's Jethro, for just a moment. Tony pushed down the flutter in his stomach. This was  _ Gibbs. _  Not Jethro. “I was thinking of moving anyway. I can't work with him anymore, but I'm not going to betray my partner.”

Gibbs quirked an eyebrow. “He betrayed the department when he broke the law.”

Tony nodded, “he was desperate and didn't intend any harm. He's still my partner.”

“You still have his six.”

Tony nodded with an instinctual huff of amusement, remembering when the older man used to use the phrase in a flirtatious manner. He recovered quickly and seriously answered, “yeah.”

Gibbs stepped forward and handed him a business card. “There's a spot on my team for you if you want it.”

Tony took the card, successfully hiding the slight shake to his hand.  _ No way in Hell, _ he thought, but “thanks, I’ll let you know” was what he said.

**

Gibbs sat in his car, still unsure about his decision. He had instantly trusted this detective, which was very out of character. He knew the young man would succeed, he knew he’d be great at this job, and he knew he’d feel safe with him as a partner. That was part of the reason he rejected everyone the agency tried to stick him with, he never trusted them enough to feel safe. He also felt drawn to the guy, personally. He wanted to see more of him. Which was insane.  _ He’s a young, decorated cop, Gunny, pull your head out of your ass, _ he tried to tell himself. He knew he’d been with guys before the explosion, and had entertained the idea over the past decade, but it always felt wrong, like he was cheating. He always wondered if he’d cheated on Shannon with a fellow Marine or picked up someone at a bar. Maybe that was why his body rejected something he knew he’d enjoy. The flashes of memories he had _ did  _ have seemed to be during the time he knew he was with Shannon, which only added to his guilt.

But something about  _ this _ guy didn’t feel wrong. And even though it was a terrible idea, Gibbs had invited him onto his team. Not that the current one-man-show was a “team,” but it was supposed to be. “Rule 12,” Gibbs reminded himself. Even if this guy swung both ways, Gibbs would never again date a coworker. But he really hoped DiNozzo would take the job. It made him feel good to think about seeing more of him.

No. Seeing him more often. Not  _ more _ of him.

Gibbs growled at his body’s reaction to the thought and threw the car into gear.  _ Not helpful, _ he thought, adjusting his pants. He sped back to Washington, trying to focus on the road, and not the effect the young detective was having on him.

**

Tony came home from filing his resignation and tossed several papers into recycling. The puff of air as they dropped flipped a small paper onto the floor. When Tony reached down to pick it up, he sighed.

“L.J. Gibbs; Naval Criminal Investigative Service; Major Case Response Team” with his phone number, fax, and email.

Tony scoffed as he tossed the card back into the recycling bin where it belonged. 

_ Email. _

He remembered trying to introduce Gibbs to a computer about a  year before the crash, and he’d absolutely refused to even turn it on. He hated technology. Tony wondered if that had changed.

“No, DiNozzo, it doesn’t matter. Maybe he’s changed, maybe not, but it doesn’t matter.” He chastised himself. He hadn’t thought about Gibbs this much in a long time. Not since he was afraid he was dead. Not since he lost his entire family, including his husband.

_ Pizza, an old movie and a glass of wine, that’s what I need. _ Tony ordered a pizza, poured himself a glass of chardonnay (red wine might have been a better pairing, but he felt like white), grabbed his well-worn copy of “Singing in the Rain,” and settled onto the couch. “Alright Gene, take me away.”

The stress of the day had Tony snoozing before the premiere of “The Dueling Cavalier,” and the soundtrack of the movie simply drifted into his dreams.

In black and white, he saw Gibbs in a fedora and sharp suit, chasing a generic bad guy. Tony followed, dressed in a 1950s style police uniform, trying to warn him of danger ahead. Tony slipped further and further behind until he lost sight of the older man, only to turn a corner and trip over his dying form. “I love you,” Gibbs whispered, grasping Tony’s hand as his head dropped back to the ground.

Tony woke with a start, dropping the crust of his pizza onto the floor and nearly knocking over his wine glass. “Crap.”

Now that he knew where Gibbs was, and knew it wasn’t entirely his fault for never calling or visiting, and knew he was in law enforcement working without a partner, he was worried. He couldn’t deny it. He could never stop loving him, even if Gibbs had forgotten him.. 

With a sigh, Tony carried his dishes to the kitchen and pulled the card from the bin. He dialed the number, expecting to leave a message, given the hour..

_ “Gibbs.” _

“Oh...uh...hi…” Tony’s throat suddenly felt dry, and he swallowed nervously.

_ “DiNozzo?” _

“Yeah.”

_ “I was wondering when you’d call. Be here tomorrow, 8am. And don’t be late, you got papers to sign.”  _ *click*

Tony stared at the phone, now giving him a dial tone. _What just happened?_ _Am I hired? What paperwork?_

_ Damn him. He’s such a self-absorbed, overconfident, egotistical… _

Before he could get too far into a downward spiral of bitterness (he knew, from experience, that wasn’t helpful in any way), Tony took a deep breath. Maybe Gibbs was a pompous bastard, but the end result was the same. It looked like they’d be working together.

Eventually, Tony would get him to remember. Or tell him how they really knew each other. Tell him he felt his cock harden just a bit when he was on his back beneath Tony. 

Thinking back to that moment, pushing aside the anger and the hurt, Tony pictured Gibbs pinned under him, and the familiar sight made his heart pound just a little faster in his chest. He sat back on the couch, closed his eyes, and let the feelings wash over him. The sadness overtook anger, and for the first time in a decade he let himself miss his husband. He acknowledged that he could never stop loving the man. He thought back to their wedding, a tear rolling down his cheek as he remembered the look of sheer joy on Jethro’s face when Kelly came running down the aisle and leapt into his arms. 

_ Can I really do this? _

Tony wasn’t sure. But he had to try.

**

Jethro hung up the phone with a smirk. He knew Tony would call, he’d already used the info from his employment records to fill out some of the paperwork, giving Morrow no choice. 

_ “He better be worth it, Gibbs,” _ Tom had told him.

_ “Oh, he is.” _ Gibbs had replied, confident he was right.

He felt drawn to this young man, like they’d known each other for years. They’d gotten off to a rocky start, but eventually settled into an easy rhythm, Detective DiNozzo practically finishing his sentences and reading his monosyllabic thoughts with ease. He rarely felt comfortable with another agent, much less LEOs, unless they were Marines. From what he could tell, the closest thing to military experience DiNozzo had was a few years at a military prep school. But something about this guy was different, he had to follow his gut.

Gibbs finished the last of his coffee, dropped it into the wastebasket, grabbed his gun and badge, and headed out the door, always last to leave. He knew he had voicemails on his work phone, left by his newly-minted ex wife, but he left the light blinking. She was another in a string of bad choices, and he had nothing to gain by listening to her bitching. He’d block her number on his new cell phone too, if he could figure out how.


	13. Sausage, Pepperoni, & Extra Cheese

It’d been two weeks since Tony had finished FLETC and officially worked with Gibbs. He was so very different from the young Marine he’d known and loved. Cold, mostly. Tony had been there, for years in Peoria, he’d been the angry new “kid,” always going above and beyond, throwing himself into dangerous situations and trying to justify it with a successful collar. Putting himself and others in danger, until he was officially reprimanded after firing his weapon and catching an innocent bystander in the crossfire. She recovered fine, a through-and-through in the upper arm, but had threatened to sue the department. The city settled out of court, as long as Tony agreed to anger management classes and counseling.

The counseling helped. He’d scoffed and tried to talk circles around the soft spoken older man, but he immediately saw right through Tony’s mask. 

> “ _ How long has it been? _ ” Jim had asked.
> 
> “ _ Um...I’ve been here about 20 minutes, doc _ .” Tony replied, glancing at his watch.
> 
> “ _ You know what I mean. _ ”
> 
> Tony shrugged, “ _ Nope _ .”
> 
> Instead of pushing, Jim had leaned back in his seat, crossed an ankle over his knee, and waited.
> 
> Tony tapped his fingers on the arm of the oversized chair where he sat. He looked at the artwork on the walls, some obviously hand painted and framed canvas, some simply inspirational posters. He shifted in his seat, feeling more and more uncomfortable with the silence.
> 
> But still, Jim waited.
> 
> Finally, Tony sighed. “ _ 18 months and 2 weeks _ .”
> 
> “ _ Who did you lose, Officer DiNozzo? _ ”
> 
> Tony’s face kept the same stoic look he had learned to perfect over the past year and a half, belied by the single tear that rolled down his cheek. “ _ My daughter, her mother, and our unborn child were killed...and my... my husband blamed me for it _ .”
> 
> Admitting the full truth of his history was dangerous, but he knew this was privileged information. And Jim seemed like the kind of guy who would definitely understand the need for discretion.

Once he opened up about his grief, Tony’s life began changing for the better. The pain was still there, it would never go away, but he wasn’t so angry all the time. He learned how to deal with the pain, instead of pushing it down and having it make his decisions for him. He became a better cop, better with victims, better with the rest of his team, better at deescalation. He rose through the ranks until his supervisor suggested that a move to a bigger city might do his career some good. He had a friend in Baltimore who would rush the paperwork and hire him on a Detective track, and Tony excelled. 

Gibbs seemed to be stuck in a cycle of anger, self-loathing, excessive drinking, and somewhat suicidal tendencies. Their only conflicts thus far had been when Tony had pulled him from danger, or physically stopped him from practically killing himself trying to catch a perp. All of this just solidified Tony’s confidence in his choice. If he left NCIS now, all he’d be able to think about would be Gibbs throwing himself unnecessarily into the face of danger until it finally killed him. He couldn’t let that happen.

Tony pulled a photo from his wallet, a copy of one that had been in the box Shannon had mailed to him when NIS had first put her and Kelly under their protection. In it, Gibbs and Shannon knelt in the sand at the beach, Kelly balanced on Shannon’s knee, and Tony had flopped onto his side in front of them, shirtless in bright turquoise shorts. The photo was slightly blurry, he was probably still moving when the timer had gone off, but the surprise and laughter on all their faces was worth a hundred times its weight in gold.  

Tonight had been hard. Gibbs had invited him over for dinner. Steak dinner. In the fireplace, like he’d always liked. He’d made it through dinner fine, with a bit of awkward conversation, but then Gibbs had shown him the basement. Where, a decade ago, there had been a workshop and small boats and children’s wooden toys was now the skeleton of a boat that would never fit up the stairs. Tony stood on the third step and couldn’t go any farther. He’d hidden the true reason for his shock and confusion by joking about the size of the boat, asking how the man was going to get it out of the basement.

Gibbs wouldn’t tell him.

Tony hovered for a bit, ignoring Gibbs’s invitation to help with some of the simpler tasks. He could have left when Gibbs started sanding some of the ribs, occasionally laying a straight edge along the side, testing whether they were even. Instead, Tony lowered himself to sit on the landing. He watched Gibbs focus on the boat, a sense of calm and peace coming over him with each stroke. He leaned over and rested the side of his head against the wall, the quiet sounds of Gibbs working lulling him into an almost meditative state.

Eventually, Tony’s head slipped forward, shocking him awake.

“Nice nap, sleeping beauty?” Gibbs asked with a half smile.

Tony instinctually grinned back, his heart leaping at the sight of the first genuine smile he’d seen since that day in Baltimore. “My boss is a slave driver.”

Gibbs scoffed and shook his head. “Go home, DiNozzo. See you at 0800.”

Tony stood and stretched, catching Gibbs watching him out of the corner of his eye. He yawned and started ascending the stairs, “Night, Boss. Next time I bring the pizza.”

Gibbs nodded. “Sausage, pepperoni, extra cheese?” He mumbled.

Tony froze. “What?”

Gibbs shrugged, “I dunno, I usually hate pepperoni, but for some reason I like the combination.”

Tony closed his eyes and gripped the railing for support.  _ You could tell him why he likes it _ , a voice in his head insisted. Instead, he inhaled deeply, straightened, and said “Sounds good, Boss.”

As he reached the top of the stairs, Tony heard Gibbs softly say one last thing.

“Thanks...for staying.”

Tony paused. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” he replied, in a perfect impersonation of Humphrey Bogart. 

Gibbs huffed in amusement and resumed work on his boat, and Tony shut the door behind him.

After Tony had left, Gibbs put away his tools and leaned against the hull of the boat. Or what would be the hull, eventually. He couldn’t deny he was attracted to the man, not after the reaction his body had just from catching the glimpse of skin between shirt and pants when DiNozzo had been twisting and stretching on his stairs. And something about the  _ Casablanca _ quote had struck him, making his chest tighten, but he couldn’t figure out why. Hell, he couldn’t figure out how he recognized the quote when he’d never seen the damn movie. 

Not that he remembered.

Gibbs shook his head, took a final swig of bourbon and stomped upstairs, aiming to forget the hard on still pressing against his briefs, and the thoughts running through his mind. Apparently, he had gained quite an imagination when it came to Agent DiNozzo, to the point of picturing him in various non-work situations. Most recently, an image of him in short shorts, grinding against him in his Marine fatigues in some seedy bar had come to mind.

“Get it together, old man.” Gibbs chastised himself, flopping onto the couch and wrapping his torso in a sheet. He ran through the open cases he’d worked on the past month and a half, effectively distracting himself from any kinds of sexual thoughts, and helping him focus back on work, which was his life, and needed to stay that way.

A few hours later, Gibbs woke to find his hand in his briefs, squeezing his hard cock, thinking about what it would be like to have DiNozzo kneeling in front of him, swallowing him down completely. 

“Fuck it,” he growled, and kept stroking, the image of DiNozzo looking up at him with those sweet, green eyes, was disturbingly real. He was surprised with how detailed his fantasy became, with almost a sense of deja vu. He felt Tony using his lips and tongue, changing angles and suction just often enough to keep Gibbs guessing. He groaned and tightened his grip, practically feeling Tony’s soft hair beneath his palm, the strands threading through his fingers as he worked the length of his cock with his beautiful mouth. 

When he came, he heard Tony’s voice in his head, urging him on. He felt breath across his cheek, and Tony whispered “cum for me Jet…” 

The unique nickname jolted through his body, sending his orgasm to a level he hadn’t felt in a long time.


	14. A New Teammate

Tony watched as Ducky turned and stepped away from Agent Todd. Gibbs sat on the arm of the couch, smiling slightly. They spoke in hushed tones, but Tony didn’t like the look on his face. Gibbs was a sarcastic, gruff, pain in the ass. But here he was, being all...nice.  _ So she puked on a plane, big deal, _ he thought. But Gibbs always did like coming to the rescue. He’d married smarmy, sarcastic women three times before, Tony practically growled as he slipped back into the office to interview the stewards. He could see the chemistry there. Hell, it was the same look Gibbs had given him when they’d started working together. This Agent Todd would end up being ex-wife number 4, Tony was sure of it.

Gibbs chuckled as Agent Todd stepped away to get the phone call from her superior. Who the hell was  _ he _ to lecture anyone on dating coworkers? He’d been screwed (and not in the fun way) several times. And he’d been harboring this...whatever the hell it was...for DiNozzo for a while now. Then again, who could blame him? The man looked good in just about anything, though Gibbs preferred this more casual look; the unbuttoned collar, the dishevelled hair, the casual pants. He glanced up to where he knew Tony had been standing, and wasn’t surprised to see he’d left. For all his sass, the man was damn good at his job. He was probably interviewing the Stewards.

**

Tony almost gagged at the display before him. While he was being reminded by Fornell of his unceremonious “drop off” the night before, Gibbs was, again, flirting with Agent Todd. Sorry, “Kate.” The others thought it was just a ploy to get information from her, and to buy them time. But Tony remembered that smile, he remembered Gibbs when he’d actually say “please” and bat his eyes dramatically. Those actions used to be directed at him. He knew this wasn’t the first woman his husband had seduced, but he hadn’t been around for the others. He glared at Gibbs as he passed. When the two of them hit the elevator, he threw the pen he’d been holding across the room, expertly landing in Gibbs’s trash can with a loud bang.

“Geez, grumpy gus!” Abby scolded, her ponytails swinging as she turned toward him. “Gibbs bought us time! I know we’re all running on not enough sleep, but let’s get this figured out.”

“Indeed, my dear,” Ducky agreed. “If you need me, I shall be with the Commander,” he waved to Tony.

Gibbs expected results. Tony exhaled sharply, cracked his neck and fingers, and reviewed his notes. Where to go next? 

“OK, what’s going on with you, mister?” Abby hopped onto Tony’s desk.

“Nothing, like you said, not enough sleep. But you ARE a goddess for letting me crash in the lab.” Tony grinned at her.

“I’m not buying it. That pen over there didn’t do anything to you, so what gives?”

Tony felt his grin falter. He hoped Abby didn’t notice. “I just want to get this case finished, save the president, and go home to my own bed and not have to watch those two lovebirds anymore. New ex-wife in the making, if you ask me.”

Abby pursed her lips and shook her head, “Anthony DiNozzo, you could have any girl you wanted. Agent Todd is cute, don’t get me wrong, but come on, if Gibbs likes her, let him try to get her! He doesn’t get many chances!”

Tony swore he didn’t react. Really. He’s the master of undercover operations. He didn’t flinch.

“Wait...wait...oh... _ oh _ …” Abby started winding up, her voice raising in pitch, until she leaned down into Tony’s personal space. “You're not jealous of Gibbs…you're jealous of  _ Kate _ !” She whispered.

Master of undercover or not, Tony felt his neck and ears heat up.  _ Damn. _ “Abby…” he growled, aiming for threatening.

“Don't you 'Abby’ me...oh my God, you  _ are _ !” She squealed and clapped. “Bossman needs someone who can handle him, Tony, and you totally can! You're the only one who can read his mind and finish his sentences and all that! Go for it, I bet he's totally hot in bed…”   A small smile crossed her face as she obviously began daydreaming about the two agents in probably compromising situations.

“Abby!” Tony hissed and snapped his fingers near her face.

“What? Oh, right. So…how are you gonna get him, Tony? Come on, you’re the ‘Sex Machine,’ you can get any _ one  _ you want, not just any  _ girl _ !” Abby grinned even wider.

Tony didn’t need this right now. He had a case. He wasn’t about to come out of his precariously balanced closet, to his very  _ loud _ best friend, in the middle of the bullpen. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “The case, Abby.”

Abby leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “OK, work. But guess what?”

Tony looked up as she slid off his desk and ran around to give him a very tight, and slightly wiggly, hug. “What, Abs?”

“You’re my best friend, and I love you no matter what, even if you’re crazy enough to crush on the Boss,” she whispered quickly into his ear, before jumping backwards.

“Thanks, Abs.” Tony sighed. She blew him a kiss as she bounced toward the elevator. She was a weird one, but it only made her more open minded, it seemed. The cat was now halfway out of the metaphorical bag. He hoped Abby wouldn’t go digging too much. She was certainly good enough to find evidence of his past with their boss, and that wasn’t a mess he could deal with right now. Hell, even  _ he _ hardly understood why he stayed here, practically torturing himself being close to his husband and never being able to hold him, or even talk to him the way he wanted.

_ The case. Dead Commander on Air Force 1. Possible assassination attempt on the President. Get your head together, DiNozzo _ . It was time to save the day.

**

This would be Kate’s first case with their team. Tony wasn’t looking forward to it, he’d gotten used to them working together as a pair. He flipped open his phone and tried to call Gibbs again. Straight to voicemail. Again. “Damnit, GIbbs,” he grumbled. “You’re gonna make me come out there aren’t you?” He asked his phone, dialing the land line. Busy signal.

Tony turned the key in the ignition and sighed. He supposed one more trip to see his partner before they added Kate to the team would be OK. 

Gibbs smiled to himself when he saw Tony’s head peek down the stairs. He didn’t know why the young man was there, but he was always a welcome sight. Even more welcome was the sense of awe he always seemed to have when he saw his crafts in  various stages of production. There was a case, and maybe they should have dropped everything to rush to the scene. But neither one of them seemed to want to leave the sawdust-strewn basement.

“You use hand tools, huh?” Tony asked, sliding his hand gently along the freshly sanded rib of the hull.

Gibbs tried not to envision other places Tony’s hands could be right now. Unsuccessfully. “I use my  _ hands _ ,” he said, dropping the sanding block and turning away so Tony wouldn’t see his physical reaction. 

As Gibbs went up the stairs, now with Tony’s cell phone in hand, Tony turned toward the black rotary phone torn from the wall and shook his head. “He’s a weirdo,” he mumbled. That phone had been there when they’d moved in, but it looked like this wasn’t the first time he’d had to reinstall it.

Then the bastard turned out the lights on him.  _ Really? _ Tony rolled his eyes and fumbled in the dark to the stairs.  _ Jackass. _

But he still missed when the joking and sarcasm and eye rolling was directed at him. It was his backwards way of showing affection, and sometimes he swore there was recognition there, in his smile, or the pat on the shoulder, or the slap to the back of the head. Tony sighed.  _ Get over it DiNozzo. _


	15. Remembering

The ring was heavier than he remembered. Tony turned it over in his hand, running his thumb across the worn inscription inside.

_ “Family First” _

It was their motto. Their number one rule. Shannon had given Gibbs the idea for “rules to live by,” and they’d all agreed on that one. And of course, “never date a lumberjack,” but that wouldn’t fit on the rings, no matter how many times Shannon threatened to call the jewelry store and have it changed. It was very nearly 15 years since they’d exchanged those rings, signing the documents to enter into a “registered partnership” in Denmark. Fifteen years since their  _ wedding _ . Tony had worked with Gibbs for a while now, and he’d heard about the string of ex-wives, so he knew their paperwork wasn’t on anyone’s radar yet. But with Massachusetts allowing same sex marriages soon, and other states looking to recognize unions and marriages from other states and countries, it was only a matter of time before their status became an issue.

“What do I do, Shan?” Tony asked the popcorn ceiling of his apartment. He sighed and closed his eyes. “I know, if you were here, you’d tell me to talk to him. But he’s changed. He’s so broken without you girls, I don’t think he’d take this well. His grief over just you? That’s been his life for over ten years. It’d kill him if that world view changed.”

He tipped the wooden desk chair back on two legs, rocking on the balls of his feet. “I can handle it. I can hold this for him.” He felt a tear tumble out of the corner of his eye. “He’s got me back, whether he realizes it or not, Shannie, I’ll keep him safe. Or die trying.” As he said the last word, his chair tipped backwards farther than he intended, and he landed on the ground with a loud  **thud** . Instead of getting up, Tony stayed on his back, staring at the ceiling. His husband, the man he loved but couldn’t have, had nearly died. He’d been blown up, and forgotten everything...again. He’d forgotten Tony. Again.

And it hurt.

**

“You’re an idiot.”

Gibbs straightened a wiped the sweat from his brow. “I’m helping fix your goddamn cabin, why am I an idiot?”

Mike handed him a beer, the condensation practically warm by the time it hit Gibbs’s palm. “Why the hell are you here, Probie?”

Gibbs took a long pull from the bottle and sighed. “Damn government. Sacrificing the lives of innocent kids for fucking PR. ‘Just in case,’ they said. No. I won’t be a pawn anymore. These stuffed shirt desk jockeys want to play with the lives of our servicemen and women, I won’t help.”

“That’s all?” Mike smirked at him. “You sure you’re not havin’ “team” issues?”

Gibbs glared. “My team can handle themselves. Hell, they’re not my team anymore.”

“Nope. You handed ‘em over to DiNozzo. Tony.  _ Your _ Tony.”

“Shut it.” Gibbs growled, tossing the empty bottle into the cardboard box near their feet. 

Mike didn’t move as his “probie” picked up a hammer and headed in his direction. “You remember him, Jethro.”

“I’ve got some rusty nails to deal with, Franks. Move.” Gibbs gestured toward the area behind Mike where he’d been working.

“Walls are thin, Probie. You’re talkin’ about him in your sleep.” Mike said, in a hushed voice.

“I. Said. Shut. It.”

“Growling ain’t gonna work on me. You may be a natural, but I taught you the bad cop routine, remember?”

Gibbs stood in front of his friend, trying very hard to  _ not _ punch him. “I couldn’t stand it there anymore. End of story. Cold beer, ocean views, and women in bikinis are all preferable to the bullshit in Washington.”

“I won’t argue there. Especially the women. But you don’t even look at ‘em. Admit it, Probie, you remember.”

Gibbs wouldn’t respond. Which was enough of a confession for Franks.

“Back to my original point. You’re an idiot. How long’s it been?”

Under his breath, Gibbs grumbled, “15 years.”

“Fix it, you goddamn mule. Those wives were poor substitutes, trying to replace a wife who wasn’t even the love of your life.” He stepped back when Gibbs’s head shot up and he tensed, “Woah, not that y’all didn’t love her. Thing is, ya  _ both _ loved her. But you loved each other more. Any fool could see it.”

“You never said anything.” Gibbs accused.

“Nope. Figured DiNozzo had left your nasty, angry, drunk ass, and I knew you’d been blown up, so I didn’t think it mattered. It damn well matters now. Go home, Gibbs. Go home to your boy.”

Mike watched as the fight seemed to drain from Gibbs’s body. “I can’t, Mike.”

“Bullshit.”

“Goddamnit, he tolerates me because he thinks I don’t remember! If I told him I knew? He’d be done. You don’t know what I said to him, Mike. How I treated him.” Gibbs’s shoulders slumped and he dropped the hammer onto the sawhorse next to him.

“So screw your rules and apologize. It’s a start. What’s the worst that could happen? He leaves and you come back here and you’re back right where you started, but at least you cleared the air. But he just might listen. That boy loved you. The way he talked about you before you made it back stateside? You were everything to him. Give him some credit, and stop being a selfish ass.”

Gibbs knew this was selfish. He knew he was simply running from his problems. He knew the heat and the sun and the sand and the water and the alcohol wouldn’t help. Not really.

But he pushed past Mike without a word and poured himself a shot of bourbon.

A few weeks after their “heart to heart,” Ziva called, begging for his help. He wanted to pass it off to DiNozzo, but what she wanted could have ruined his career. It could have gotten Gibbs thrown in jail, now that he was just a civilian, but he’d take that chance. 

The look in Tony’s eyes when he realized Gibbs was back was first one of relief, and Gibbs felt better about his decision to keep his mouth shut. Unfortunately, the fact that Gibbs had returned, and nobody had filed his retirement papers, meant Tony was no longer team leader. It was a position he gladly handed back, but the hurt and sadness were back. 

Why was this man still attached to him? What the fuck had he done to deserve the loyalty of one of the finest young agents he’d ever worked with? And someone with the biggest heart he’d ever known? Frustrated, Gibbs unceremoniously dumped Tony’s things back on his desk. He didn’t deserve Tony’s affection. He couldn’t stand the thought of being without him, not after their years together as coworkers and friends, and especially not after remembering their history. But if he could distance himself just enough that Tony wouldn’t follow him around like a St. Bernard, maybe the younger man could finally be happy, focusing his attention on somebody else.

It didn’t work. Gibbs watched Tony across their desks every day, and he saw the pain. He kept up a great façade, joking and laughing and teasing and almost begging for head slaps like always, but sometimes it slipped. And Gibbs couldn’t keep hurting him.

So he invited Tony over for another steak dinner. Like the ones they used to have before Gibbs got his memory back. Gibbs saw the relief in Tony’s posture as their banter seemed to come back easily, with Gibbs smiling beneath gruff, deadpan remarks while Tony regaled him of tales of victory and “epic” pranks while Gibbs “vacationed” in Mexico. As usual, Tony cooked Gibbs’s potatoes and broccoli perfectly. He’d been puzzled by that for a while, and now he understood how he knew. They chatted about movies, about how Tim’s maturity had grown over the past year, about the mustache (or, as Tony dubbed it, “the god-awful Sam Elliot impression”), and as they settled on the couch together after three too many drinks, Gibbs apologized.

Tony couldn’t believe his ears. “What? What did you say?”

It wasn’t just about Mexico, but Gibbs didn’t say that. “I said I’m sorry, Tony.”

Tony blinked and stared for several seconds. His gut churned, his heart pounded. He’d waited so long to hear those words, he didn’t know what to say. Not without destroying their new friendship. He still loved the bastard, but it was almost comfortable now. It still hurt that he couldn’t have him the way he wanted, but it felt good to be near him, to try and protect him like he hadn’t been able to protect their girls. He struggled to find something safe… “You’re breaking a rule, there, Boss,” he said, quietly.

“Rules like that don’t apply to friends, Tony. I shouldn’t have left like that.” He inhaled deeply and threw caution to the wind. “I hurt you, then I just disappeared. That’s not right. Then I came back and I was a bastard, cuz I didn’t know what I was doing for a while. But I’m gonna try. And you deserve your own team. Jenny told me about Rota.”

Tony tried to keep up with the subject change. Gibbs had apologized…he’d apologized for Mexico, but it sounded an awful lot like it was more. But then he’d moved right on to talk about Tony again.  _ Smooth _ , Tony thought. He never did like talking feelings, though he used to be better about trying. Tony fell easily into the familiar pattern. “Thank you, but I don’t want to move to Rota. And you’re right, it wasn’t OK. But I understand why you did it.” Tony paused.  _ Keep it current, DiNozzo _ , he reminded himself. “You didn’t know us for a while. You didn’t…”  _ Keep it together...  _ “You didn’t remember me, and you got stuck in the past for a while. You were a jackass, but I understand why.”

_ Oh no, you don’t,  _ Gibbs thought. But instead of saying it, he just nodded.

“Don’t pull that crap again, though.” Tony warned. “You think Tim and Ziva’s reports are bad now? Imagine how they’d look if I left.” He looked at Gibbs and gave him a genuine smile.

Gibbs felt himself melt just a little. He held out his hand and grasped Tony’s, shaking it in agreement. “Deal.”

After a few moments, Tony stood, his ass right in front of Gibbs’s face. Gibbs had to clench his fists to avoid doing something stupid. Until Tony wobbled and started tipping over. Immediately, the older man jumped up and steadied him.

“Y’ok, DiNozzo?” He asked, letting himself show more concern than maybe he should have.

“Yeah, Boss. Yeah. Just…I haven’t had much to drink lately, so 3 beers kinda did me in.” Tony blushed and shrugged.

Gibbs remembered that blush. He hadn’t seen it in so long. He could have easily helped the younger man upstairs to his guest bedroom to sleep off the drinks. Instead, he pulled him back down onto the couch. “Sit down, you’re not driving. I’ll make sure you’re up in time to get home to shower and change before work.” He knelt on the couch and reached over the back to grab his pillow and blanket. When he turned back, however, he heard a slight snore. Tony had fallen asleep, slightly at an angle, and was tipping slowly to a horizontal position. If Gibbs didn’t move soon, he’d end up with Tony’s head in his lap.

Gibbs didn’t move. He settled down onto the seat and let Tony’s head rest on his thigh.  _ Bad idea, Gunny. Bad idea _ , his conscience tried to tell him. But he didn’t listen. He slowly stroked Tony’s hair, like he used to do when they watched old movies together, and just that simple contact changed his entire demeanor. He felt like the Grinch on Christmas, his heart growing 2 sizes in that moment.

He had always had momentary urges to grab his SIC and kiss him, or to push him against a wall and make him forget his own name, or, hell, to tie him to his bed and have his way with him for hours. He’d brushed them off when he could, or indulged briefly but ignored it the next morning, because he’d partially believed the mask DiNozzo presented to everyone. The serial dating straight ex-frat boy persona was fairly close to his real personality, as far as Gibbs could tell. He knew there was more to it, and there were probably deep-seated reasons for his lack of commitment, and he’d been badly hurt by many people in his life, but Gibbs had assumed the straight part at least, so he’d never made a move. And now he couldn’t make a move, because he _ knew _ why Tony was here and so loyal to him, and that he was one of those people who’d hurt him so badly. Sitting on the couch, stroking Tony’s hair, he felt like he’d made the right choice. He couldn’t risk losing this. It was a ghost of what he wanted, but if he took it any further, he knew he’d screw it up and lose Tony for good, and he couldn’t take that chance.

Tony smiled in his dream, one hand draped on Jethro’s knee, his head pressed against his thigh near the crook of his hip. It felt so real this time, and he heard the soundtrack to Casablanca playing in his head when he mumbled “you tried the mustache before…”

Gibbs froze. He looked down at Tony’s peaceful face, a smile tugging across his lips. “What?” He whispered. He’d forgotten Tony sometimes talked in his sleep. Usually it didn’t make sense, but sometimes…

“Told you to shave then…’s a nice reminder…” Tony’s hand squeezed his knee as he shifted and snuggled closer against Gibbs.

_ Not now…not now… _ Gibbs had to shift too, feeling his body respond rather quickly. “shhhh…sleep….” He whispered.

Tony hummed in agreement. “Miss you.”

Gibbs let his head drop back onto the couch. “Miss you too,” he managed to say.

Tony woke to the smell of extra strong coffee and a horrible crick in his neck.

“C’mon sleeping beauty. Don’t wanna be late.” Gibbs grumbled, handing Tony a steaming travel mug.

“What…happened?” Tony looked confused. He remembered his dream…and was a little afraid it wasn’t just a dream…

“You’re a cheap date, DiNozzo. Next time, you make it to the guest room under your own power. And for god’s sake, leave a toothbrush so I don’t have to drag you outta bed at 0500.” Gibbs huffed and disappeared into the kitchen.

_ Five AM. No wonder I feel like shit _ Tony mused. He smiled a little into the mug as he took a sip. This was the first time Gibbs had made his coffee the way he liked it. It was strong, but the creamer was perfect.

“Here.” Gibbs handed Tony something wrapped in tin foil.

“What’s this?” Tony asked, tossing the very hot package from hand to hand.

Gibbs rolled his eyes, “Food. I expect you on time.”

Tony nodded and grinned, “Yes Boss!” He hopped off the couch, ignoring the complaining from his neck and lower back, grabbed everything he’d come with, and bolted out the door.

As the door shut and silence returned, Gibbs dropped into a chair at the dining table. What he wouldn’t give to usher Tony off to work every morning.

Tony sat in his car and tore open the aluminum foil to find a freshly made sandwich with thin slices of leftover steak and scrambled eggs on thick Italian bread. This wasn’t some “throw it in the microwave” frozen breakfast sandwich. The coffee was probably on auto-timer, but Gibbs had to have gotten up before 4:30 to make this. He’d been gruff this morning, but it seemed he was back to his normal self. Well, almost normal. The “nice” thing was different. Tony figured that’s what happened when your brain got scrambled.

He hadn’t just been nice, though. He’d apologized. Tony knew he hadn’t dreamed that part.

He just wished the rest was real.


	16. Dinner and a Talk

“Yeah Boss?” Tony picked up the phone after just one ring.  
  
“Tony. You busy?” Gibbs asked.   
  
“Uh...it’s my day off, Boss, whadda ya need?” Tony wiped the tear from his cheek. Sometimes his days off were a bit self-indulgent, and he’d been going through the few wedding photos he still had.   
  
“Dinner? My place?”   
  
Tony frowned and looked at his watch. It was 11am. Early for a dinner invite. And he’d planned an afternoon visit to the gym to work off the comfort food he’d had for brunch. “Uh, what time?”   
  
“Whenever you get here. I got steak in the fridge.”   
  
Tony expected him to hang up, like he usually did. But there was an awkward silence on the other end of the line. “OK, uh...yeah, that sounds good.”   
  
“Thanks. I’ll see ya...bye.”   
  
The call ended with a soft beep. Tony looked at the phone, confused, but smiled a little. He never got anything close to a “goodbye” on the phone. This is it. We can get through this, he thought.   
  
But what would they get through? Tony unlocked the fire safe by his desk and pulled out the plain manila folder. Inside were their marriage documents, along with divorce papers. He’d lucked out in some respects that the US hadn’t recognized their marriage yet, but with more and more states, and now DC, signing equal marriage into law, it was only a matter of time. Gibbs would work on ex-wife number 4, and he’d apply for a license, and be denied. Tony sighed. He had to do it. He had to tell him. They’d sign the papers, and hopefully get back to their normal lives.   
  
They had eventually made it through the Mexico debacle keeping their friendship intact, right? This was bigger, but if Tony didn’t bring up the specifics, maybe they could just move past it.   
  
Gibbs hung up the phone and sighed.   
  
“I’ll see ya later, son.” Jackson smiled warmly.   
  
“You don’t have to leave, Jack…” he cleared his throat, “Dad.”   
  
“Oh, but I do. You and your boy need to talk. And I mean, a long talk that, knowing you, will involve yelling and grunting, and God only knows what kind of ‘make up’ you’ll have,” he winked.   
  
Gibbs rolled his eyes, “Tony’s a loyal friend _now_ , but he doesn’t want that, Dad. Not after what I did to him. To you. Hell, to everyone. It’s Christmas. I’m glad you’re here, and I want you to stay.”   
  
Jackson grunted as he pulled himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the cane at his side. “I’m not goin’ far, Leroy. Just gonna call your little goth girl for a ride to do some shopping. She gave me her number. Said I was ‘sweet,’” Jackson grinned, “I think she’s sweet on me.”   
  
“Dad…” Gibbs groaned.   
  
“Relax, she’ll always be gaga for you. Still, I could use an outing. Rumor has it her nun friends do some bowling, maybe I’ll luck out.” Jackson stepped into the kitchen and dialed Abby’s number.   
  
She arrived in less than half an hour, excitedly hooking her arm in the older man’s, and discussing the stores where she wanted to take him. Before Gibbs shut the door behind them, she leaned back and whispered into Gibbs’s ear.   
  
“Be nice to him.”   
  
Gibbs frowned, “he’s with you, Abbs, what do you--”   
  
“Tony.” She narrowed her eyes, “I’m always watching, Mister.”   
  
Before Gibbs could ask her what the hell she was talking about, Abby swept his father away and sped off.   
  
_Damnit...what does she know?_ Gibbs shook his head and stepped back into the house. He’d find out later, but right now, he had a decision to make. Just how much was he going to tell Tony? How was he going to do this? Would there be drinks? No. No drinks. He drank too much anyway. It was something Tony had mentioned after Kelly was born, and had only gotten worse over the past 18 years.   
  
Eighteen years. Fuck that was a long time. And he’d worked with Tony for nearly half of it. Tony had suffered with this knowledge for over seven years. Sure, Gibbs had kept this under his hat for a couple of years, but he’d already developed a comfortable friendship with Tony by the time he remembered. Tony hadn’t had that luxury. He’d pushed his hurt and anger down as deep as he could, and still had his six.   
  
They’d get through this. They had to. Gibbs couldn’t bear the thought of going on through another Christmas with this secret.   
  
** 

Tony straightened the hem of his shirt before grasping the doorknob. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, plastered on a grin, and stepped through the entrance. “Lucy, I’m Ho--ome!” He said, loudly.  
  
Gibbs smirked, drying his hands on the towel over his shoulder. “Not a real quote, Tony.”   
  
Tony rolled his eyes, “since when do you know more about vintage media than me?”   
  
“Since you quoted a TV show, when a wise man once told me that never happened.” Gibbs cocked an eyebrow at him.   
  
Tony froze. He remembered that. Jethro had come home once, while Shannon was still pregnant with Kelly, and burst through the door like Ricky RIcardo, shouting ‘Lucy, I’m home,’ and Tony had jokingly corrected him, and they’d ended up watching I Love Lucy videos for hours snuggled on the living room floor sharing a blanket.   
  
Did he remember? “Uh...yeah, I guess that guy was right.”   
  
Gibbs nodded, seeing the fear and confusion rising behind Tony’s joyful mask. He turned his back, heading into the kitchen. “Changed my mind...I made lasagna”   
  
Tony furrowed his brow, “you? Made Italian? No offense, Gibbs, but if anyone should be making Italian food, it’s me.”   
  
“Trust me, Tony. I have a great recipe.”   
  
“Not your dad’s, I hope.” Tony clapped his hand over his mouth. The last time Gibbs had made lasagna was when they were still dating and he was trying to impress Tony...he said it was his father’s recipe, and it was pretty awful. Tony had coached him through his own adaptation of his childhood favorite.   
  
Gibbs smiled, “Nah, dad’s recipe was pretty bad. He wasn’t much of a cook after my mom died. But he tried. Sit down, relax, it should be done soon.”   
  
Relieved that the comment seemed to be ignored, Tony held up the six pack of beer. “Want one?”   
  
Gibbs shook his head, “nope. I’m not drinking tonight.”   
  
“What? Are you sick, Boss?” Tony’s jaw practically unhinged in shock. Gibbs ALWAYS had a drink in his hand, either beer or bourbon, when he was home. OK, not always. Sometimes he had coffee if it was before 10am, but Tony didn’t trust him to not spike it. He was an alcoholic, of that, Tony had no doubt, but it hadn’t affected work yet, so it wasn’t his place to confront him.   
  
“No,” Gibbs chuckled, “But I am capable of controlling myself.”   
  
Tony wrestled with his concern. As colleagues, it wasn’t really appropriate to have such a personal discussion. But they were friends. And Gibbs knew Tony cared, at least. “Boss, I gotta be honest...it might not...I dunno, might not be safe to just decide not to drink…”   
  
Gibbs waved a hand over his shoulder, “I know. I’ve already cut back some, I’ll be fine for one night.”   
  
Tony narrowed his eyes, but nodded, “OK. As long as you’re not cutting back on coffee at the same time. I don’t know if we can handle that.”   
  
Gibbs scoffed as he opened the oven, “Don’t worry, that’s never happening.” He grabbed an oven mitt and leaned down to pull the glass pan from the oven.   
  
Tony couldn’t help it. Gibbs’s ass hadn’t changed all that much in nearly 20 years. He tried to keep from becoming obviously aroused, but he swore, if he didn’t know any better, Gibbs was bent over a bit longer than necessary.   
  
Once they sat down to eat, Tony having put the beer in the fridge and had a tall glass of water with his dinner, Gibbs noticed the manila folder sitting on the narrow table in his entry. “What’s in the folder?”   
  
Tony’s face flushed, “oh, uh...yeah. Probably something we should talk about. But after dinner?”   
  
Gibbs nodded.   
  
“Holy crap, Gibbs, this is good!” Tony grinned and stuffed another forkful into his mouth.   
  
“You sound surprised,” Gibbs commented, “I _have_ managed to feed myself for quite a while, DiNozzo.”   
  
Tony’s eyes widened, “Oh, Boss, I didn’t mean anything by it, I--” he stopped when he noticed Gibbs grinning around the fork in his mouth, and let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”   
  
Gibbs paled and placed his fork on his plate. “Not the best segue, but…” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I do know. I hope not literally, but...I know, Tony.”   
  
Tony dropped his fork. “You know...what…?”   
  
Gibbs looked up, shame and guilt in his eyes. “I remember. And I’m sorry.”   
  
Tony froze. _He remembers._   
  
The silence was deafening, but neither moved for what seemed like forever.   
  
Finally, Tony whispered, “How long?”   
  
Gibbs looked down at his hands. “Mexico.”   
  
More silence. Tony processed. Mexico.   
  
The explosion. Gibbs had originally lost his memory in an explosion...he hadn’t left this time because he lost it again...he left because he remembered.   
  
Mexico.   
  
“Three years.” Tony’s voice was shaky, quiet.   
  
Gibbs just nodded.   
  
“Three. Damn. YEARS?!” Tony’s arms tensed and he balled his fists. “Three years?!” He shouted, slamming his fist on the table. “You selfish son of a bitch!” He stood, leaning onto the table and getting into Gibbs’s face, “After what you said that day, then I went a decade, a DECADE, thinking you were done with me. Then we worked together for almost another decade. I SAVED your ass! You couldn’t even do me the honor of telling me when you remembered? I fucking loved you! Worse, I RESPECTED you!” Tony growled in frustration and started to storm out of the room when Gibbs spoke up again.   
  
“How long?” He asked, more firmly than he'd spoken before.   
  
“What?” Tony spun around and crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “How long what?”   
  
Gibbs stood and approached Tony. “How long did you know I didn't remember?”   
  
Tony threw his hands up in the air. “Since Baltimore, ok? I figured it out. Doesn't matter anyway. You remembered eventually.”   
  
Gibbs's voice dropped to a low growl. “You hid from me. Hid in plain sight. You kept this from me for five years. What was I supposed to think, when I finally did remember, if you never tried to talk about it? I never blamed you, not even back then but I said I did, and you were right to hate me for it. If you were here for 5 years and never mentioned our history, I figured you didn't want to mention it.”   
  
“Goddamnit! Never assume, Gibbs! Isn't that a rule somewhere?” Tony was still angry as hell, but he felt a year roll down his cheek.   
  
“Never get personally involved is another one. Broke that in Baltimore, and I had no idea why. All I knew was that it felt right to want you by my side. I instantly trusted you, and I don't trust anyone.” Gibbs's voice softened as he stepped closer to Tony. “I would have wanted to know. And when I did remember, I stopped trusting you for a while, Tony.”   
  
Tony dropped his arms and let Gibbs step closer, more tears threatening to fall.   
  
“It's not an excuse, and I should have told you, but I'm shitty at this. I ran because it was easier. Just like...Like I ran instead of apologizing all those years ago. And for a while it was easier to pretend like everything was fine, and then we were back to normal and I realized I didn't want to fuck up what we had.”   
  
“When you apologized after Mexico…?”   
  
“For all of it. I can't make up for it all, for the running, for what I said, for keeping it from you, but I meant it.”   
  
Tony pushed back, his emotions swirling in his head, “no, no, you don't get to just fix this with a few nice words and my lasagna. You don't get off the hook that easy.” He stormed into the foyer and grabbed the folder. “Here. This was what I wanted to talk about.” He flickering his wrist, tossing the folder, frisbee style, in Gibbs's direction.   
  
Catching it easily, Gibbs opened the top flap. “What is it?”   
  
Tony just glared at him.   
  
Pulling the stack of papers from the folder, Gibbs instantly recognized his signature on the top page. A copy of their request for their legal partnership. He sat the papers on the table and flipped through them. The top few were familiar. The last chunk, held together with an impossibly large staple, looked to be some sort of legal paperwork. Except it wasn't in English. There were little sticky notes sticking out from the edge in a few places, two different colors. “What is this?”   
  
Tony sighed, “sign where there are blue flags. I sign where there are yellow ones, and that pink one is to have it notarized, if I remember correctly. But we should have a lawyer check it out anyway.” He frowned,  “I guess I'm ex wife number 4,” he said dryly.   
  
Gibbs dropped the papers on the table. “No.”   
  
Tony's head snapped up, “what?”   
  
“I said no. If you really want to, you can have me served and fight me on it, but I'm not just signing this.”   
  
Unfortunately for Tony, Gibbs was more experienced when it came to divorce proceedings, and this was close enough. Tony sighed and his shoulders slumped. “Why?”   
  
“Give me 6 months.” Gibbs let his fingers brush over the raised seal on their certificate. Clear as day, he remembered the whole thing now. Not just seeing Kelly run down the aisle and jump into his arms, but what happened after. When he'd turned to Tony and pulled him close and held him until Kelly complained of being “squooshed.” He'd always remembered the joy he felt in that moment, and the love in his heart, and he was convinced he would never have that again. Now was his one chance to make it better. “Let me start to make it up to you. I don't deserve it, after the things I said when we were both broken and should have been there for each other, but I'd like to try. If, in 6 months, it doesn't work, I'll sign the papers.”   
  
Tony was still mad. Gibbs had known for three years. But then again, he didn't say anything in Baltimore either. God, they were both emotionally stunted sometimes. “Ok.” He whispered.   
  
Gibbs stepped forward and gently brushed his thumb across Tony's cheekbone, flicking a tear away. “I knew something was missing, you know.”   
  
Tony met his eyes, “when?”   
  
“The whole time. The cassette of Kelly playing piano? She was too little for lessons, and Shannon and I couldn’t play, but she was starting. How? Why? I knew there was more, but I didn't want to think about it. Then there were all the pictures. There were too many, and they were too good to be constantly set with the timer, so if all three of us were in the pictures, who was taking them? And then there's this.” Gibbs stepped back into the living room.   
  
Curious, Tony begrudgingly followed. Gibbs put his hand against the wall above the fireplace. “It’s worn away. Just a little, but enough that I knew something should be here. About eleven by sixteen inches.”   
  
Tony remembered the photo. He remembered directing Jethro as he hung it, teasing him by saying it was never centered, until Shannon had stepped in.   
  
“Oh, for goodness sake, Tony stop screwing with him! Yes, it’s fine Mr. Perfectionist. I wish you’d chosen a better photo, though.”   
  
“It’s real, it’s spontaneous, and it’s our first family portrait. How could it be better?” Tony asked, and wrapped an arm around Jethro’s waist as he climbed down the stepladder.   
  
“I look like hell.” She pouted. “The minute we get a better photo of all of us, it’s going up there.”   
  
“We’ll get new pictures every year. Professional ones. Hell, twice a year. We’ll have a big stack of them you can pick from.” Jethro told her, and kissed her forehead. Just then, Kelly started crying again from her bassinet.   
  
“Promise?” Shannon glared at Jethro as Tony jogged into the downstairs bedroom to retrieve the fussy newborn.   
  
“Promise.”   
  
They never did get those professional photos of all of them, Tony remembered. Kelly, yes, of course. But it was always too much of a risk that it would reveal Jethro and Tony’s relationship, because of their jobs, and Shannon would have to deal with backlash for being involved as she was. So they kept putting it off. They wanted to wait until the next holiday...or until a promotion...or until after a visit by one of Kelly’s grandparents...there was always something making them wait.   
  
“It’s in my apartment.” Tony said, quietly. “I haven’t gotten it out in a long time.”   
  
“I’d like a copy, please?” Jethro patted the wall, “It belongs up here. There’s a lot of empty space around here, but that’s a start.”   
  
Tony nodded. If nothing else, even if he could never get past the hurt and the lies, Jethro did deserve the photo he’d hung all those years ago. Oh hell… “I’ll bring the original. I have the negatives, I can make a copy for myself.”   
  
Jethro smiled a little. “Thank you, Tony.” He took a few steps toward Tony and held out his hand. “Can we start over, maybe?”   
  
Tony looked at Jethro’s hand, extended and inviting him to grasp it. He didn’t respond.   
  
“Look,” Jethro took another step toward Tony, slowly closing the distance. “I’m an ass. And I’m still upset you didn’t say anything either. But I’ve gotten to know this Tony DiNozzo for eight years, and believe me, I’d have said something much sooner if I had realized you might have been interested. If nothing else, let’s have a second first date. A real one. Not beer and bourbon in the basement, not cowboy steaks in the fireplace, not chinese food at midnight poring over case files. Let me take you out.”   
  
Tony looked up at his husband. At Jethro. Not Gibbs, not ‘Boss,’ just Jethro. He’d said more in the past 10 minutes than he had in the past eight years. Probably combined. And Tony felt himself melt just a little at the sadness in those clear blue eyes. “OK.” He said quietly, finally taking Jethro’s hand.   
  
Jethro gently pulled him close, his heart pounding in his chest as he embraced the man he loved, the person he’d always loved. He smiled when he felt Tony’s hands tentatively settle on his hips. “I don’t know if I could have fixed this back then, Tony. But I really wish I’d had the chance.”   
  
Tony leaned against Jethro, head down, his hands sliding from his hips to the small of his back. “I thought if you remembered, you’d still blame me.”   
  
Jethro leaned back, lifting Tony’s chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I never blamed you. Not really. I said I did, but really I blamed myself, for not being here. For not supporting you while you took care of our family. I was angry and I took it out on you because I was selfish. And I can’t take it back, I have to live with that.”   
  
“And I wasted eight years, thinking friendship would be OK.” Tony frowned. “Who was I kidding?”   
  
Jethro very gently pulled Tony forward, slowly angling himself until their lips were almost touching. “Can I?” He whispered.   
  
Tony leaned in and answered with a brief kiss. He pulled back ever so slightly and snorted under his breath. “May I.” He mumbled.   
  
“What?”   
  
“It’s ‘May I’ kiss you...I’m sure you’re _physically_ capable…”   
  
Jethro cut Tony off with another kiss. This one much longer and more insistent than the last. Now was not the time for a grammar lesson.   
  
Tony tightened his one arm around Jethro’s waist and let the other slide down around his hips, groaning as their groins pressed together. He kissed Jethro back enthusiastically, stepping forward until Jethro gave some ground, walking backward until his back hit the wall next to the fireplace. Tony pushed his thigh between Jethro’s legs and grinned against his lips. “I definitely remember this.” He pressed hard against the growing bulge in Jethro’s pants.   
  
The older man practically growled in response, launching himself forward and expertly spinning them, grasping Tony’s wrist and pinning it to the wall by his head. “So do I, rich boy.”   
  
Tony felt the adrenaline course through him, and he frantically reached for Jethro’s belt, making quick work of it, and his pants, one handed, as Gibbs began kissing and biting his neck. Quickly, Tony twisted and got control of his wrist, then pushed Gibbs back about a foot. “I’m having a flashback. Your pants won’t remove themselves.”   
  
Gibbs grinned and wriggled his hips, the loosened khakis pooling on the floor at his feet, then fell to his knees. With one hand, he pushed Tony back against the wall again, then yanked his perfectly-tailored designer slacks down the toned thighs that hadn’t changed a bit in the 18 years since he’d last seen them this close.   
  
Tony was about to object to the treatment his almost new pants were receiving, until he felt Gibbs’s hands on his thighs, holding him in place as he enveloped the head of his cock in his mouth. “Oh...fuck…” Tony groaned, his head falling back against the wall, one hand tightly gripping Gibbs’s shoulder. His other hand he curled into a fist and brought to his mouth, stifling his less-than-manly whimpers.   
  
Gibbs simply hummed his amusement, feeling his own arousal as Tony’s cock swelled even more to fill his mouth. He was out of practice, so taking more than a few inches was not an option, but he didn’t think Tony would need much more. He grinned and kept his eyes angled upward, watching the younger man’s reactions. He watched as Tony’s breathing sped up, as his shoulders arched, pushing his body away from the wall (to which Gibbs responded with a grunt and pressed him back). He smiled to himself when he began flicking his tongue along the underside of the head of Tony’s cock, and it resulted in an involuntary shudder down Tony’s left thigh, matching the pace of his tongue.   
  
Tony, flushed and flustered, fought the urge to thrust into Gibbs’s throat. It was probably pointless anyway, with the grip the man held on his thigh. His body trembled as he felt himself nearing his peak. “Gibbs...Je...Jethro...I’m…” He panted. Just saying his husband’s name aloud almost made him cum, but Gibbs pulled back at the very last second, causing Tony to cry out in frustration.

  
“What the fuck?” He growled.   
  
Before Tony could gather his bearings, and when he knew he’d come back from the edge just a bit, Gibbs immediately pulled Tony back into his mouth, sliding his tongue along the sensitive rim of his head, and sliding one hand between his thighs. Tony parted his legs slightly and groaned when Gibbs cupped his balls with one hand and slid one thick, spit-slicked finger inside him. “Ohhhhh!” He moaned, not caring if the windows were open or who could hear. “I’m gonna...don’t stop...please...fuck, Jet!” Tony’s hips thrust forward as he came, the finger in his ass stroking his prostate and the skilled tongue and lips working his cock like they’d never stopped.   
  
After what felt like forever, Tony dropped back against the wall, his limp cock still slightly twitching as Gibbs gently stroked his thighs. When he opened his eyes again, he shook his head. Gibbs was trying to hide his wince as he slightly struggled to get up. “Let me,” he offered, and they grasped each others’ forearms, pulling Gibbs to a standing position.   
  
Gibbs gritted his teeth as his knee popped back into place, but not even that could affect the erection he’d been ignoring this whole time. He leaned forward, pressing his cock between Tony’s thighs, and kissed him hard.   
  
Tony wrapped one hand around the back of Gibbs’s neck, and slid the other between them, gently stroking Gibbs’s cock alongside his oversensitive one. When he could tell the older man was getting more aroused, he stopped. He pulled back just enough to whisper, “Fuck me. Please.”   
  
Gibbs didn’t need to be asked twice. He kissed Tony again, sliding his hand back between his thighs and sliding his finger back inside him. This time, though, he twisted and stretched his hole, pressing his thigh against his balls and slowly recovering cock. There was a time when Tony would have been hard and leaking again, but Gibbs welcomed the challenge. He kept stroking Tony’s ass, stretching the muscle until it relaxed, and Gibbs was certain Tony was ready.   
  
_Fuck._ Gibbs mentally kicked himself. He didn’t have lube. His cheap lotion wouldn’t work. Spit wouldn’t work. _Goddamnit Marine...think..._ he kept kissing and rocking against Tony as he racked his brain.   
  
“Coconut oil.” Tony said, with a grin.   
  
Gibbs paused.   
  
“I’m not prepared either, but I saw a bottle in your cupboard. And you’re distracted, I can tell.”   
  
Gibbs thought very hard about the contents of his cupboard. He’d never bought coconut oil.   
  
“Oh, jesus...hold on.” Tony pushed Gibbs back, his hard cock bouncing awkwardly as he ran for the kitchen and returned with a small glass jar. “Don’t tell me who bought this, just use it.” He tossed it to Gibbs and bit his bottom lip as he looked around the living room, wondering where he’d find the best angle for--   
  
“C’mere.” Gibbs growled, grabbing Tony by the waist and pushing him toward the sofa. He roughly bent him over the arm and grabbed his ass. “How do you want this?” he asked.   
  
Tony groaned and leaned back against him. “Jesus, Gibbs. Jethro. Fuck me. Just...I need to feel you.”   
  
Gibbs nodded and opened the jar, coating his cock liberally with the sweet-smelling oil. He set it on the floor and slipped his slick fingers back into Tony’s body. When Tony started thrusting back against him, he shook his head. “Nuh-uh, college boy.” He pushed Tony forward until he couldn’t angle his legs down enough to get leverage on the floor. If Tony wanted to be fucked, he needed to let Gibbs fuck him. Tony wriggled, but definitely didn’t object, and Gibbs gripped his hips as he pressed his cock against his hole. He paused, slightly concerned Tony wouldn’t want this after all.   
  
“Oh come on!” Tony cried, wanting to push back against the cock pressing against his empty hole. He was stuck where he was, and couldn’t push back hard enough to pull Gibbs inside him, and it was arousing and frustrating all at once. Until Gibbs’s hands tightened on his hips and for the first time in nearly two decades, Tony let out a breathy moan as Gibbs pressed inside him in one steady thrust.   
  
Gibbs paused, feeling Tony’s muscles flutter around him as he adjusted. He knew he wasn’t going to last long, and hoped he’d angled Tony decently with his cock pressed against the couch so he’d get enough stimulation to cum a second time. Slowly he pulled back, grinning at the soft whimper it elicited. The whimper turned to a yelp when he snapped his hips forward, pushing Tony further into the couch. Judging by the tightening around his cock, this was how Tony had hoped this would go.   
  
Tony fell forward onto his chest, using his arms to brace himself as Gibbs leaned over him and set a brutal pace, the rocking stimulating his cock against the sofa, and Gibbs’s cock nailing his prostate. He cursed and panted, and all he could do was hold on as Gibbs--no, Jethro--forced himself deeper, and harder, into Tony’s body.   
  
As he neared the edge, Gibbs reached beneath them and grabbed Tony’s balls, squeezing just to the point of painful, making Tony keen and beg and arch his back, until he finally came onto GIbbs’s couch. The sound of Tony’s screams of pleasure were almost as good as the feeling of his ass tightening on Gibbs’s cock, and he thrust forward twice more before cumming deep inside his lover. His husband.   
  
Later, as they lay together in a pile of blankets on the floor, Tony mumbled something into the soft hair of Gibbs’s chest.   
  
“What was that?” Gibbs asked.   
  
“Oh, nothing.” Tony said, shaking his head and pulling Gibbs closer.   
  
Gibbs stroked his hair, now very disheveled and rather adorable. Then tapped the back of his head gently.   
  
Tony sighed, “I just said...I missed you.”   
  
Gibbs nodded, tipping Tony’s chin up for a kiss. “I missed you too. I’m gonna do my damndest to not lose you again.”


	17. Another Fight

“Thank you.” Tony whispered, stepping off the bottom stair of the darkened basement.   
  
“For what?” Gibbs asked, tossing back yet another shot of bourbon. Probably two. Tony could smell it from several feet away.    
  
“You know what. You never fuck up like that.” Tony slowly approached his lover, his husband, tentatively reaching a hand out to touch his arm.   
  
Gibbs recoiled, clumsily reaching for the large bottle next to him on the workbench. “I always fuck up, Tony. Just did it on purpose this time.”   
  
Tony knew it was probably dangerous, given his level of intoxication, and the grief he’d never faced, but he reached forward and quickly snatched the bottle. “I’m cutting you off.”   
  
Gibbs whirled around, hands balled into fists, but he kept them tight at his sides. “Tony, just leave me alone,” he growled.   
  
Tony was glad it looked like Gibbs had some control, he really didn’t want to find out whether the man was a really nasty drunk. “No.” He took the few steps to the stairs and slid the bottle under the railing, nearly to the top stair, and turned back to Gibbs. “You’re going to sober up, then we’re going to talk.”   
  
Gibbs felt his heart race, and his muscles tense again. He really wanted to punch something. Or shoot something. But even drunk, he’d never hit Tony in anger. He knew the man would deflect whatever he did, especially compromised, but he wouldn’t try. Instead, he grabbed the mason jar off the work bench and flung it at the wall with a shout.   
  
Tony watched Gibbs’s anger explode, as the pieces of glass shattered against the wall. He watched tools and papers thrown to the floor. He watched until he saw Gibbs’s fist wound back, ready to punch the wall. “Woah, woah, woah…” He leapt forward and grabbed Gibbs by the forearm, anticipating the spin and dip that might have turned the tables if Gibbs wasn’t drunk. After a few moments of half-restraining, half-supporting, the older man, Tony felt him relax against him. “You done?”   
  
Gibbs nodded, resting his forehead against Tony’s cheek. “I can’t do it,” he whispered.   
  
“Yes, you can. You face it. You’ve faced it already. You just need to let yourself feel it.” Tony kissed Jethro gently and released his arms. “They wouldn’t want this, and you know it. Shannon wanted you safe and happy, she’d do anything for that.”   
  
Jethro began kissing Tony’s neck, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of his head, and slid the other between them, trying to unbutton the designer jeans.   
  
“No.” Tony reached down and pulled Jethro’s hand back.   
  
Gibbs pushed away from Tony with a huff. “Fine.” He threw his hand in the air, wobbling slightly. “Fine,” he repeated. “Tell me this, then…did you know about this stunt? Did you and Joanne have a little chat about her boyfriend when we got the case? Or hell, before we got it?”   
  
Tony narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Drunk Jethro was never fun, and he didn’t like where this was going. “No. I backed off the case PDQ. The team doesn’t know our history, and this was a minefield if they figured it out. But I gave her my private number. The  _ actual  _ private number, and we agreed to talk later.” Tony had always kept a burner cell for calls he didn’t need Abby digging into. It was the one on which most of their personal calls were made, along with very few others.   
  
Gibbs nodded, leaning against the workbench once more, glancing at the stairs where the bourbon rested.    
  
Tony shook his head, “No. I’ll dump it, Jethro. You can’t drink yourself out of this.” He watched as the gruff façade fell, and the older man scrubbed his hands over his face.    
  
“It’d be easier.” He mumbled.    
  
Tony noted the relaxed posture, and approached Jethro again, slowly wrapping his arms around the man’s shoulders. “I know. Believe me, I know. I was there, Jet. Alcohol poisoning, excessive force charges, bar brawls, you name it. But you can’t do that to yourself. Please.”   
  
Tony had thought he was getting somewhere. Things were bumpy, but they were talking more. Jethro was trying, at least on the surface, to win Tony back. He’d taken Tony out to shows, cooked meals that were eaten at the table instead of on the sofa, occasionally left inconspicuous gifts on his desk, and even lightened the headslaps to sometimes end with a gentle brush of fingers in his hair. But when things ventured toward the personal, toward feelings, Gibbs closed down. He tensed, he drank, he retreated to the basement. None of that had changed these past few months. But until now, he hadn’t lashed out.   
  
“At least I did something about it.” He said, quietly, pulling back and heading for the stairs.   
  
Tony felt the old hurt rise up again. “What did you say?” He grabbed Gibbs’s arm and spun him around before he could reach for the alcohol.    
  
“Hell, even Joanne had the balls to blow this guy away.” Gibbs said, louder this time, and tried to yank his arm from Tony’s grasp.    
  
Tony’s hand tightened until he was sure there would be bruises, but he didn’t care, he felt his rage boiling to the surface. He knew it was what Gibbs was going for. He knew he wanted to push Tony away so he could wallow. But he wasn’t standing for this. “Fuck. You. You know what? You’re the same cold hearted son of a bitch you were in 1991. The girls would be ashamed of you. I shouldn’t have given you those six months. I could see you hadn’t changed, but I guess I was hoping I could help. You don’t want help.” He spat the words directly in Gibbs’s face, pushed him back roughly, and walked past him. “Drink yourself to death. If you keep pushing people away, nobody is going to care.”    
  
As soon as the heavy front door slammed hard enough to rattle the tools on the wall, Gibbs collapsed against one of the supports for the stairs. He slowly slid down to the floor, dropped his head, and let the tears fall.    
  
Tony took some deep breaths before starting his car. This wasn’t on him. He knew he still loved Jethro, and probably always would, but he wouldn’t take these moments of insanity personally. Or at least he’d tell himself that enough times that eventually he’d believe it. Mostly. Gibbs hadn’t let anyone see him vulnerable in so long, he would do anything to keep Tony at arm’s length, and if that meant breaking his heart, he’d do it. He was a selfish bastard who couldn’t see past his own screw-ups, so he hit below the belt whenever anyone got close. He didn’t believe Tony could have done something, but he knew it’d get Tony out of his house. “Fucker.” Tony growled, and turned on the classical music station to help keep him calm during his commute.   
  
He wondered if Fornell had any openings on his team.    
  
**   
  
_ Oh…fuck…that hurts.  _   
  
Gibbs opened his eyes, slowly dragging a hand up to try and push himself into a seated position. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck…” he mumbled, his entire body complaining with every movement. When he finally was somewhat upright, he leaned back against the wall. He’d made it all of 3 feet after Tony left, and fallen asleep (ok, passed out) on the hard concrete of the basement floor. Not only would he be dealing with the inevitable hangover at work—he was used to that—but he’d need a hell of a lot of aspirin just to move properly today.    
  
“No…” He groaned.  _ Tony _ . He’d done it again. But this time he’d fix it. Gibbs slowly made his way to the stairs and pulled himself up, joints cracking and muscles creaking. When the fuck did he turn 80? Oh, that’s right, when he drank half a bottle of bourbon.    
  
**   
  
Tony threw an arm over his eyes as the sun peeked through the curtains. “No. Too early,” he mumbled. He hadn’t been entirely successful in talking logically to himself last night, and had fallen asleep on the couch watching Carey Grant movies and self-medicating with his current best friends, Ben and Jerry. “Oh hell,” he looked down and confirmed he’d indeed knocked over the almost-empty ice cream container…spilling the sticky, melted liquid on his coffee table and onto the rug beneath.    
  
As he stood up and cleaned the mess, he vowed to make sure he stayed strong today. He was sure Gibbs would be extra-awful, but probably also extra contrite. Tony knew he needed to put his foot down. This was how the past 3 months had gone, and even though he’d agreed to 6, Tony wouldn’t let Gibbs slip toward abuse. Seeing Joanne, somewhat making amends, sent him over some kind of figurative cliff, right back to the day he’d thrown Tony out of the house they were supposed to share.    
  
“oops…” Tony had been so deep in thought he’d scrubbed his knuckles raw on the carpet, the paper towel having shredded quite a while before. He shook his head, made one final sweep of the coffee table, and went to take a shower. Gibbs wasn’t going to throw him off his game. Not this time. Losing his head for two minutes scrubbing carpet was fine, but not on the job.    
  
**   
  
Tony arrived exactly 4 minutes early, to find a steaming hot, perfectly sweetened, cup of hazelnut coffee on his desk. Which was not unusual lately. Of course, he’d also picked up his own. “Coffee, boss.” He nodded, handing the tall, strong, black brew to Gibbs, who was, as usual, finishing his first cup of the day.    
  
Gibbs purposely gripped the cup so his fingers overlapped with Tony’s, raising his eyes to hopefully convey the start of an apology.   
  
Tony gave a curt nod and turned toward his desk. He didn’t dispose of the gifted coffee, but set it aside. If it cooled before he wanted it, then he would throw it away, but he wasn’t going to toss it just to make a point.    
  
This is going to be a long day, Gibbs thought, enjoying the bitter taste of the scalding coffee.    
  
Not ten minutes later, dispatch called.    
  
“Grab your gear.” Gibbs grunted, his head pounding at the sound of his team slamming drawers and scrambling to grab what they needed before he hit the elevator.    
  
**   
  
Tony dropped his go bag onto the floor, slowly trudging across the apartment, discarding clothing as he went.    
  
“Shower…hot…good…” he mumbled to himself. He’d slept some, but as usual, the case had taken precedence. He was pretty sure it’d been over 36 hours since his last shower, and he was muddy and cold, chasing after the suspect for well over 2 miles of wooded terrain in mid-March. Even after all that, he was pretty sure the only reason he’d gotten an “attaboy” from Gibbs was because he was kissing ass.   
  
The shower was hot. And it felt good, not just to warm up properly, but to turn on the massage function of his showerhead and let it work its magic on his aching back and shoulders.    
  
It’d be better if it was Jethro working his magic on my… Tony straightened and shook his head, interrupting his own train of thought. He wasn’t angry anymore, but he needed to remember his own boundaries, or Gibbs would never respect them. He couldn’t just forget what happened and move on just because it was easier to ignore it.    
  
Unfortunately, that train of thought had had a physical effect. Tony wasn’t about to deny himself some extra relaxation, and tried not to drip onto the floor too much as he reached out of the shower and into the cabinet above the toilet. Inside was a small plastic box with his shower toys. He selected the dildo with the suction cup, and coated it in lube. He hopped back into the shower and selected the perfect spot that would allow the toy to hit his prostate on every stroke.    
  
Tony ran his slick hand down his length, sliding his fingers over his balls as he leaned back against the wall, the 7” toy slipping between his thighs. He rocked back and forth, letting the silicone head pass over his hole, slowly stroking himself until he knew he was close. He reached down and pressed the tip of the dildo against his hole, breathing deeply and relaxing as he felt his body opening, felt the gradual slide and the ache of the stretch. He groaned when the head was fully inside him, and pushed himself back until the cold tile pressed against his ass.    
  
He tried to picture anything, anyone, but Gibbs. The cute bartender he’d flirted with a few months ago. The burly Navy Captain he’d caught eyeing his ass. None of it worked. He’d fantasized about Gibbs, about Jethro, for so long, it was like the only thing he could feel was Gibbs’s cock. The hair of his chest against his back. His rough, calloused hands stroking him.    
  
Tony just got frustrated, trying to even picture being fucked by the hot blonde at the gym wearing a strap-on. When he felt his erection softening, he gave in. He thrust back against the wall hard, picturing Gibbs behind him, taking him roughly, gripping his cock and pumping it in one tight fist while his other hand wrapped around Tony’s chest and twisted and pinched his nipple. Within seconds, Tony’s arousal was back, his back arching as he fucked himself, hitting his prostate in time with the stroking of his cock. He kept his eyes closed, he practically felt the roughness of Gibbs’s morning stubble against the back of his neck, and he cried out his lover’s name as he came hard, thrusting back harder and faster, envisioning the man emptying himself into Tony’s body.   
  
Breathless, Tony let his head drop back against the shower wall, his ass still clenching around the always-hard substitute. “Bastard,” he sighed. Even when he wasn’t there...he was there.   
  
**   
  
**Ding**   
  
Tony groaned. If it was important they’d…   
  
**Ding**   
  
Text again. Damnit. No. If it’s work, he’d get a call. Gibbs didn’t know how to…   
  
**Ding**   
  
Text.   
  
“Goddamnit.” Tony picked up his blackberry, unplugged it from the charger, and stuffed it under his pillow, waiting to hear more notifications. When none came, he sighed, smiled, and rolled over, sure that the pillow would muffle…   
  
**Ding**   
  
The sound enough that he should be able…   
  
**Ding**   
  
To sleep.   
  
“For Christ’s sake!” Tony pulled the phone out and tried to angrily swipe it open. Which didn’t feel nearly as satisfying as answering a call with an angry “WHAT?”   
  
He opened his messaging app to see 5 new texts.   
  
From Gibbs.   
  
Tony checked the time again…3:45am.   
  
He was probably drunk.   
  
**Ding**   
  
Another one.   
  
_Fine, Gibbs, I’ll play,_ Tony thought, opening the conversation.   


> 3:31--Gibbs: _Tony, I know you’re probably asleep, but I’m not, and I can’t wait any more._   
>    
>  3:32--Gibbs: _And no, I’m not drunk. I haven’t had anything since that night. I’ve been sick, but I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or because I did it again._   
>    
>  3:32--Gibbs: _I miss you. I screwed it up, and I don’t deserve another chance, but I’ll beg for one anyway._   
>    
>  3:39--Gibbs: _I’m sorry._   
>    
>  3:39--Gibbs: _I’ll break whatever rules I have to. I’m sorry._   
>    
>  3:46--Gibbs:  _Can we have breakfast?_

Tony tried to focus on the tiny keyboard,   


> 3:47--Sent: Fine. Go to sleep. Be here at 9.

He dropped the phone next to him on the bed. His stomach churned, wanting to say more, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.   
  
**Ding**   


> 3:48--Gibbs: _I Love you, Rich Boy._   
> 

_Oh, hell_ Tony felt himself tearing up. Gibbs was the master at hitting below the belt, but damn if he didn’t know how to pull Tony’s heartstrings. He missed this Gibbs. He missed Jethro. He hated the drunk, selfish bastard Gibbs had turned into, but he’d go through hellfire and brimstone to get his Jethro back.   


> 3:50--Sent: Love doesn’t fix everything.   
>    
>  3:51--Sent: But I love you too, Soldier Boy.

Nine AM came way too quickly. Tony was just pulling the frittata out of the oven when he heard a soft knock at the door. 8:53. Of course he’s early. He thought about grabbing a shirt, but figured there wasn’t much point, so he padded barefoot across the room, quickly checked the peephole, and unlocked the door.  


  
“Spinach and mushroom frittata, whole wheat toast, orange juice, and your tar,” he announced, walking away from the open door.   
  
Gibbs stepped inside, and closed and locked the door. “Just the coffee’s fine.”   
  
Tony shook his head, “vegetables are fine. You wanted breakfast, you got it. Sit and eat, then I’ll listen.” He pointed to the chair at the small kitchen table. “Besides…if you haven’t had a drink in, what 4 days? I’m guessing you haven’t eaten much either.” He tossed four pieces of toast and a smaller piece of frittata on a plate.   
  
“Just haven’t had the appetite.” Gibbs shrugged, but took the plate from Tony’s hand and sat down.   
  
Tony gave himself two pieces of toast and a large helping of the egg dish, and sat next to Gibbs. They ate in silence, and Tony purposely slowed his movements to match Gibbs’s tentative bites. Alcohol withdrawal was no laughing matter, and Tony was worried that the man had quit cold turkey.   
  
“You could have had seizures. Hallucinations. Hell, you could have died in your fucking sleep.” Tony said, pushing his eggs around on his plate.   
  
“I didn’t, though.” He didn’t mention how he’d been seeing Shannon and Kelly out of the corner of his eye for the past 2 days. He figured if that was the worst he got, he was lucky.   
  
Tony sighed. “First, you’re a selfish prick. Then you don’t give a shit about your own safety. Which is it? Because I can’t handle this, Gibbs.” He dropped his fork onto his plate with a loud clatter.   
  
“I don’t know.” God, he was tired. He was never this tired.   
  
“You need help.” It was a subject Tony had broached before, but never so bluntly. He pressed on, “You need professional help. Because this Gibbs? I can’t be with him. I can love you, but I can’t be with you. So something needs to change.” He felt the tears welling up in his eyes, “And I want it to change. Fuck, Jethro, I want you back. I want all of you. Not just the great sex and the nice dates and the good steak and the falling asleep together. You used to be able to talk, and now you just storm off or lash out. I won’t tolerate abuse, Jethro. Three AM texting and fresh coffee and sad eyes don’t make up for treating me like that. You’re getting worse.”   
  
Gibbs looked up at Tony and nodded. “I know.”   
  
Tony waited.   
  
And waited.   
  
“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say? Because I can’t be doing all the talking.”   
  
“Already made an appointment,” Gibbs shrugged. “Figured it’d help. I go tomorrow.”   
  
Tony let out a puff of air in surprise. “You…you did?”   
  
Gibbs nodded. He smiled slightly, “surprised?”   
  
Tony smiled back. “A little, yeah.”   
  
Silence filled the room as they looked at each other. Finally Gibbs spoke. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore. And I know I can’t promise anything, but I can’t figure it all out. She said you could come, sometimes, too. If you wanted.”   
  
Tony reached over and stroked Jethro’s hand. “When you want me there, you tell me. OK?”   
  
Jethro placed his other hand on top of Tony’s and nodded.   
  
Soon, the silence became awkward, and Jethro patted Tony’s hand, pulling back and grabbing the plates. “You cooked, I got the dishes.”   
  
With that, the tension seemed to dissolve. Tony went to the bedroom and pulled on an old OSU t-shirt, then plopped onto the couch and opened the menu for his DVR. “Ooooh, remember that show ‘Fugitive Thoughts’? I have a couple of episodes on here if you want to bitch about their police work,” he shouted toward the kitchen.   
  
“Actually,”   
  
Tony jumped and yelped in surprise as Gibbs appeared directly behind him, drying his hands.   
  
Gibbs chuckled, and continued, coming around the end of the couch and sitting slightly behind Tony, “they’re one of the few shows that aren’t too bad.”   
  
Tony smiled and hit ‘Play’ as he tentatively leaned back against Jethro’s chest. He relaxed when the older man’s arm wrapped around him and pulled him close.   
  
Halfway through the first episode, Tony had to chuckle. Gibbs was obviously trying to keep his cock under control. “The more you think about it, the harder it’ll get,” he mumbled, gently stroking the arm draped across him.   
  
“Whose fault is that?” Gibbs said, his voice huskier than it had been just 20 minutes before.   
  
Tony wriggled closer, feeling the sharp intake of breath when his ass brushed the zipper of Gibbs’s jeans. “Well, I suppose I could remedy the situation…” He turned to face Gibbs and pressed a knee right between his legs. “My way.”   
  
Gibbs nodded. This was much more than he’d hoped for when he had arrived, so there was no way he was going to complain. He groaned when Tony’s knee slid closer, until it was pressing tightly against his balls.    
  
Tony grinned. He wanted to watch his lover fall apart. But he wanted just a little bit of revenge. He attacked the older man’s throat in earnest, sucking and biting on the sensitive skin until he felt Gibbs’s hips thrusting toward him, then grinding down on his thigh, begging for contact. He slid his hand down between them and palmed the obvious erection in his old Wranglers, “I’m not sure you deserve this,” he mumbled, squeezing roughly.    
  
Gibbs grunted and stopped the urge to react by pushing Tony back. OK, so his fingers were digging into his balls tighter than normal, but he kept shifting and stimulating his cock as he did, so it was uncomfortable...but still a turn on. He let his head fall back onto the couch, reaching up to stroke Tony’s cheek with his palm. “I don’t.”   
  
Tony grinned and started stroking him through his jeans. He leaned down and nipped at his nipple through the NIS t-shirt he wore. He felt Gibbs wriggling beneath him, but he didn’t stop. He licked and sucked on his nipples while he rutted against his thigh, loudly moaning his excitement, and stroked his cock.   
  
Hearing Tony, watching his body rock above him, feeling his mouth against his chest and his hand stroking him...Gibbs felt his breathing quicken...his heart was pounding, “Tony...if you don’t....I’m gonna…”   
  
Tony grinned up at him, teeth still gripping his nipple. He kept going, kept stroking and rocking and squeezing.   
  
Gibbs bit his lip. He wasn’t going to cum in his pants. Not like a stupid teenager. He was nearly...well...he was old enough to know better. He could control this.   
  
Tony didn’t slow, didn’t stop. He could tell GIbbs was trying to control his orgasm. But it wouldn’t work. Tony had skills...he just hadn’t had Jethro there to practice on for a while.   
  
Gibbs groaned when Tony kept going. Maybe he couldn’t control this. Just when he thought that, he felt the heat rising across his body...His muscles tightened, and he thrust up against Tony, crying out when the man bit down at the juncture of neck and shoulder, stroking his cock faster, until he collapsed back down onto the couch, breathless.   
Tony grinned. “Now that’s taken care of...let’s watch the show.” Seemingly unfazed, though sporting an obvious erection, he spun around and plopped back onto the couch, settling back against Gibbs where he’d been just a few minutes before   
  
Gibbs sighed. This was going to be a long, sticky, gross morning. He only hoped he’d get to shower before he left.


	18. In Harms Way

Tony stood out of sight as he listened to Jethro and Jackson’s conversation.  
  
“Appreciate you staying to help.”  
“Sure…thought maybe we could fix a few things.”  
“You sure you can spare the time?”  
“You do what you have to for family.”  
“Ain’t that the truth.”  
  
He shifted the box in his arms and tried not to draw attention to himself, not wanting to disrupt the touching father-son moment. Ever since they’d lost the girls, Jethro had been too broken to try and fix things with his dad, and now…  
  
“Come on out, son.” Jackson called.  
  
Tony huffed, then sneezed as a puff of dust blew up into his face. “How did you…”  
  
Jethro chuckled, “turned up the hearing aid?”  
  
“Just you wait, boy…sucks getting old.” Jackson grunted and turned toward the half-cleaned store. “Lookin’ good. I might take a break…maybe I’ll ‘turn down the hearing aid,’” he made air quotes with his fingers and added an eye roll for good measure. “I’ll let the younger men handle the rest.” He smiled and patted Tony on the shoulder. “Lots of fixin’ to do here.”  
  
Tony smiled, “Enjoy your nap.”  
  
“Oh, I will. You’re jealous. I might get myself some pudding too,” he called back over his shoulder.  
  
As the door shut, Jethro went right back to the repairs he’d been working on. Tony put down the box and stepped in front of him. “Can we talk about it?”  
  
Jethro inhaled deeply, pausing, but not looking up from his task. “No.”  
  
“Jet…you’re kidnapped, then you, your dad, and Franks go off all cowboy-style and try to save the day, all at the hands of the kids of the fucker who killed our family. Please. Talk to me.”  
  
The seconds ticked by as Tony waited for some sort of response. Any response.  
  
Gibbs just slowly blinked. Not even the speed of his breathing changed.  
  
“I. Was. Scared. Do you get that? I need to talk. I need you to talk to me.” Tony stroked his hands up Jethro’s forearms, to his biceps, then rested them on his shoulders. “And look at me.”  
  
Things had been better since Joanne had come bursting back into their lives. She and Jethro hadn’t talked since, but they seemed to have come to a mutual understanding at least, and he didn’t begrudge Tony checking in on her every once in a while. Jethro had cut way back on the drinking. He wouldn’t stop completely, he wouldn’t join AA like Tony wanted, but he **did** seem to have it under control. It was a step. Counseling helped some of the rage and withdrawal, and at the 6 month mark, Tony had shredded their “divorce” papers. He made it clear they could always be reprinted, but for now, they were making good progress.  
  
And then the Reynosa cartel happened. It was like they’d been hit with reminder after reminder of the worst day of their lives, just to fuck with them.  And Gibbs hadn’t given two shits that he was held captive. He taunted them. He baited them. His plans worked, yes, but Tony wasn’t happy about it.  
  
“You practically offered yourself on a silver platter.”  
  
Finally, Gibbs reacted. He shrugged. “It worked. They wanted me, I gave them what they wanted.”  
  
Tony gritted his teeth. Technically, the man was right. And no long-term damage had been done. They were all safe now, and the Reynosas weren't a threat. But this wasn't the first time Gibbs had thrown himself into danger without thinking.  
  
"That's not the point. Did you even think about what could happen? Yeah, they wanted you. They wanted you DEAD."  
  
Gibbs shook his head, "so what? If I'm dead, I'm dead. Couldn't NOT try. I killed their family, I understand that."  
  
"So what? _So what_? So you end up leaving me? The girls left us, and look how long it took to find some sense of a new normal. If you left me by CHOICE? From the Reynosas? From drowning in a car because you couldn't ask for help? From a sniper because you wouldn't wear your goddamn vest when you're the bait? Guns kill. Bombs kill. Water fucking kills. Why do you put yourself into these places unnecessarily?”   
  
Gibbs squared his shoulders and looked Tony in the eye. “Because if someone is going to get killed, it might as well be me. I don’t have kids to take care of like Vance. I’m not young with my whole life ahead of me like McGee. I’m not getting any more promotions here, like you could. It’s me who should be putting my life on the line.”  
  
“So, you think it’d be OK if you died, just because you probably wouldn’t run the agency someday?” Tony blinked in shock, trying to understand.  
  
Gibbs nodded. “I’m valuable as I am. And if I die saving a life or two, or getting some scumbag off the streets, then I’ll die happy, and the world will go on just fine.”  
  
The last phrase hit Tony like a ton of bricks. His chest compressed, his breathing accelerated. “No. It wouldn’t. Not my world, Jethro.”  
  
Gibbs rolled his eyes, “You did just fine without me all those years, you’d be just fine again.”  
  
“I wasn’t just fine, Jethro. I lost my ENTIRE family. All of it. Senior doesn’t count. And you’re just going to shrug off my pain? Because you’re suicidal? That’s how little you care about me?” Tony’s words were quiet, but the anger was palpable.   
  
“I care about you, Tony. I love you. But you’re strong, you’d bounce back. You’d find someone else and move on.”   
  
Tony pursed his lips and nodded. “Fine. Maybe I would. Maybe I wouldn’t. But you know what? I don’t want to find out. I can’t be constantly worried about what danger you’re going to find, or whether today is the day you step in front of the wrong gun, or hell, whether today is the day you eat your gun. I can’t do it anymore, Jet. We got through so much, but if you can’t consider my feelings for even a split second when it comes down to putting yourself unnecessarily into harm’s way? What the fuck does that say about our relationship?” When Gibbs didn’t respond, Tony brushed the dust off his jeans and walked toward the door. “I need some time to think. I’ll get a room in Danville. I’m sure your dad won’t mind giving you a ride when you’re done here.”   
  
**  
  
Tony spun the remote in his hand and groaned. This hotel sucked. He couldn’t sleep, and the Pay-per-view selection was horrible. It had been 2 days since he’d left Stillwater, and this town wasn’t much bigger. He’d talked McGee through a bit of a problem at the office, mostly involving a prank he was planning for Ziva, but other than that, there was nothing to do. He was about to look into getting a room in Wilkes-Barre for the next night when his phone rang.   
  
“Hello?”   
  
”Mr. DiNozzo? I have someone here at the front desk for you. Says he’s your boss.”  
  
Tony sighed, “Grey hair, permanent scowl, smells like coffee and sawdust?”   
  
”Uh…yes…yes, sir, that’s fairly accurate. Shall I—“  
  
“Send him up, it’s fine.” Tony hung up on the poor girl. He was grateful for the distraction, but he was a little disappointed he’d been there when Gibbs had shown up. He didn’t want it to look like he was waiting around for the man to talk at his convenience.   
  
Quickly, there was a knock at the door. Tony stood, checking his hair in the mirror, adjusting his boxers and undershirt (he’d be damned if he was going to dress just for Gibbs), then opened the door. “You couldn’t come at a normal hour?” He grumbled.   
  
Gibbs slipped inside and quietly closed the door. “Dad kicked me out. It took me a while to find the right hotel.”  
  
“That’s why you’re here? Free hotel? Fine, there’s the floor, or the chair over there. The ottoman pulls out from underneath if you want to put your feet up. Good night.”   
  
Gibbs sighed, “Goddamnit, Tony, that’s not why I’m here. I get it. I’m being selfish. I don’t know what I’d do without you. And I don’t think I’d make it if you died too.”   
  
Tony swallowed hard. Decision time, DiNozzo…  
  
Gibbs waited. He saw Tony’s muscles tensing slightly as the man obviously struggled with his response.  
  
“I can’t take much more of this, Jet.” Tony finally whispered. “The back and forth…the bastard Gibbs cuts me down, then Jethro comes back to butter me up? Imagine if Kelly were here, and she told you some guy treated her like this. What would you tell her to do?”   
  
Gibbs growled, “I’d kick his ass.”   
  
“Exactly. Why can’t you fucking respect me? I love you, and I’ve loved you since I was a teenager, and you take advantage of that. But I’m not a teenager anymore.” Tony’s voice was calm, resigned.   
  
“We’ve been getting better…” Gibbs started.   
  
“Yeah, we have. But this hasn’t changed. You think it’s not selfish to put yourself in danger? To not care whether you live or die? It is. You want to go in a blaze of glory and hope people remember you. Except you care about that more than how I’ll remember you.” Tony’s tone wavered, but he kept his head high, staring at the man in front of him. “I want to remember you sitting on our front porch, in rocking chairs you made, drinking iced tea like regular old people. I want us to be the cool uncles for the little McGee-lets I’m sure will happen someday. I want to grow old with you, you stubborn ass. But everything you’ve done tells me you don’t want that. You can’t stop living in the ‘90s, and you’ll do anything to “prove” you’ve done enough to make up for whatever you think you could have done for the girls.” He paused for a breath and held up his hand before Gibbs could interrupt. “Look. You spent a long time drinking an awful lot of bourbon. I know you’re not as healthy as everyone thinks you are, and you’ve got a few years on me. I accept the fact that I’ll probably have to live without you at some point. But I don’t want you rushing it just to get away from me.”   
  
Gibbs nodded, but when he opened his mouth to speak, Tony interrupted him.   
  
“Don’t give me any more excuses. No more promises. This is it. We’re not talking about this anymore, because I don’t want to hear it. Go to counseling, deal with it however you want, but if anything like this happens again? If you do something stupid and my feelings don’t even cause a blip on your radar? We’re done. I’ll transfer out, we’ll dissolve the union, and you’ll never hear from me again. Is that understood?”   
  
Gibbs met Tony’s eyes. Determined to make this right, again, he nodded.   
  
Suddenly, Tony surged forward and pinned Gibbs to the wall with his body. He seized control of his mouth, his hands roughly grabbing at the older man’s chest, torso, shoulders, anything he could reach. Gibbs responded, the desperation of almost losing each other exploding with hands and lips and teeth and buttons flying across the room. 

They never did find the buttons, but all that mattered was that they were alive, and together.


	19. Another Anniversary

Tony leaned back on the cold stone and looked toward the sky, letting the snow gently fall on his face, resisting the temptation to open his mouth and let the flakes hit his tongue, like his daughter used to do. “It’s been too long,” he sighed, a single tear sliding down from the corner of his eye. After some quiet contemplation, and when he was certain the lower half of his body would be too numb to walk if he stayed any longer, he stood with some difficulty and brushed the snow from his clothes.  
  
“I think I’ll be OK. I hope you know that.” He sat the flowers on top of the headstone as he always did. He glanced at the man waiting for him by the black sedan. “It’s still hard sometimes, but he’s there for me. I never thought I’d love him as much as I do.” He chuckled warmly, “But I say that every year, don’t I? Or at least the last couple of years.” Tony spun the simple gold band on his left ring finger out of habit.   
  
“I can’t believe you’d have been 30 this year. Probably running some agency and making the world a better place. Your sister…or brother…or both, who knows?...would have been out of college...maybe a doctor or lawyer.” He paused, “There could be little mini DiNozzo-Gibbs-Fieldings running around right now. Not that I’m old enough to be a grandpa or anything.” He absentmindedly touched the few strands of grey hair he’d noticed sprouting at his temples. His husband had laughed when he’d found them and immediately went in search of a box of hair dye. Thankfully, since that first “emergency” dye job, he’d pretty much gotten used to the strands, as well as the laugh lines and return of the creaky knee. “Fifty is the new thirty, you know. I’ve still got friends having babies. Somewhat younger friends, but that doesn’t matter.” He smiled sadly, “I love Tali, I do. She’s amazing, and captured my heart the minute she toddled into our lives. But I look at her and Kai and I see how much I missed with our two babies.”   
  
Tony pressed a kiss to his fingertips and touched each of the names carved into the stone almost three decades prior. Then he turned to the smaller one, much more recently erected. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, more tears coming, no matter how hard he blinked.   
  
With those final words, he tightened his coat around his chest and strode off, the wrapping around the two dozen roses rustling in the breeze. He slowed as he approached the idling car and let his husband wrap him in his arms.   
  
“You sure you’re up for dinner?” the older man asked.   
  
“Yeah. I wouldn’t miss our grandbabies for the world.” Tony smiled and kissed David firmly. They’d learned of David's daughter, Joy, and grandchildren Natalia and Kai about two years before, and it turned out that Tony made an excellent grandpa. Even if he wasn’t really old enough.   
  
As the driver pulled away, Tony tightly gripped David’s hand and watched the cemetery retreat into the distance. He still felt guilty about Jethro’s death, but it had been inevitable. After they split, and Tony transferred to the Bureau, Jethro had gone back to the heavy drinking, and a week before his mandatory retirement, had attacked a suspect holding the wife and two children of a Marine hostage. The suspect was another Marine, young, fit, and well trained. Gibbs had been disarmed quickly, but fought long enough for backup to control the situation. Tim called Tony from the hospital, neither surprised that the man didn’t make it more than five minutes after he was loaded into the ambulance.   
  
“He found his peace, Tony.” David said, squeezing his hand and bringing him back to the present.   
  
Tony tried to subtly wipe his cheek, unsure if he’d been crying. “Yeah, I know.” He was with their girls.   
  
David released Tony’s hand and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close and kissing his temple.   
  
Tony tucked his head against David’s neck and smiled. “And I’ve found mine.”


End file.
